Pitchfork

+/-'s third album (its first for Absolutely Kosher) straddles the line between bedroom pop, which singer and primary songwriter James Baluyut has proved a few times over he's got a handle on, and more visceral full-band arrangements. But more than just that, they slide back and forth between the two ambidextrously: The vocals of the opening title track crackle with mock-vinyl pops as tooting horns evoke old-timey radio, before thunderous distortion erupts over a still-swinging horn section.

The band has aways kept more than a few tricks up its sleeve, but it has never sounded this versatile. Nor quite this dynamic, as proved by "Fadeout", hanging on an unaccompanied single-note riff that jitters like a plucked rubber band, before bursting forth in the third verse like a wiry, hungry reincarnation of Jawbox. It'd be a lame trick if the quiet moments weren't so effective on their own. "Steal the Blueprints" may be guiltier of punching in the stylistic diversions without as much substance, but as it yields the album's strongest melody, whatever trimmings that are laid on (stabs of programmed bass, pedal steel, fleeting palm-muted guitar, and unpredictable drum fills) are almost secondary.

Make no mistake, Let's Build a Fire-- originally released in the Far East-- is an heart-on-sleeve, borderline-emo pop record. "The Important Thing Is to Love" is a dead ringer for Elliott Smith (the vocal is uncanny, unabashed impersonation), and they're not cringing on their end when dropping a line like, "There's something to be said for waiting/ Despite the knowledge it'll never come" in "Time and Space" (or naming a song "The Important Thing Is to Love", for that matter). However, the diversions are no Emperor's new clothes on the same guitar-driven mope. The shifting of gears is so smooth that you know it took every hesitant earlier step-- digi-pop, off-kilter indie rock-- to get where they are now. They're still on the softer, croonier side of indie, certainly, but always tuneful and tasteful.

"Thrown Into the Fire" is the strain of nervous math-pop Chin Up Chin Up is still aspiring to, with a tricky CD-skip fake-out that introduces trickier, slippery drumming. "Summer Dress 2", however, is all loopy, chiming arpeggios that sit there to be admired, like the medium-good china your mother never busted out. Same with "Ignoring All the Detours", despite a brief string accompaniment and a fuzz-drenched breakdown. It's a shame that, excepting maybe the angst-ridden folk digression of "Profession", the latter half of the album is less dynamic-- certainly pretty, but not much else.

The thing that all the names dropped above have on +/- is not just getting there first, but personality. While +/- are sharp songwriters and capable mimics, they've gone through one more transformation as a band without arriving at a destination. That said, they remain a step ahead just by their modest ambitions, impulsively coloring and pushing their songs past the comfort level, always adding some detail to keep the listener's interest. That shouldn't be so much to ask, and that's what Let's Build a Fire delivers.

Note: Last week we incorrectly reviewed an early version of this album rather than the one that had been subsequently remixed and mastered for U.S. release. We apologize for the error and for any negative repercussions it may have caused the U.S. label and the band.