Pitchfork

The past few years have given us scores of adolescently regressive males presented as pop culture heroes. In fact, it's become something of a cliché even to note that movies and sitcoms typically pit schlumpy, carefree, childlike guys against willful, no-fun, grown-up women. Depending on whom you ask, Knocked Up managed to find some middle ground between the two poles, but it seems to be an exception. Until Hollywood gives us a good portrayal of the adolescent-leaning female, we have Portland-based Thao Nguyen and her backing band the Get Down Stay Down, who specialize in galloping indie pop with sugar-coated hooks, a frosting of horns, and a considerable dark streak. The 23-year-old singer-songwriter, whose expressive voice suggests an earthbound Beth Orton, sings about such youthful concerns as ice cream cones and cannonballs off diving boards, but with unexpected maturity, dignity, and charm. These qualities make her second full-length, We Brave Bee Stings and All, sound so immediately distinguished and spirited. Even that title makes a child's fear sound as epic as 300.

At this retrospective time of year, this point of view feels especially fresh and significant. Nguyen isn't merely the old archetype of the female as innocent naïf, but rather one who takes that youthful vision and marries it to a sly and incisive wisdom. Nguyen's is a remembered childhood both personal and universal. Describing herself as "a small kid at the big kid table," Nguyen has a sharp eye for small, telling details, which could form the bedrock of a young adult novel but here inform songs simultaneously life-size and larger-than-life. "We brave bee stings and all," she sings on "Swimming Pools", as her banjo pushes the music to a running pace. "We don't dive, we cannonball." She beatboxes at the beginning of "Geography", whose opening line-- "Geography is gonna make a mess of me"-- could be about a long-distance relationship or third period.

"Feet Asleep", which appeared on last year's Kill Rock Stars comp The Sound the Hare Heard, begins unassumingly, with Nguyen singing against a folksy acoustic guitar theme, then the band launches into a brassy Dixieland-style chorus-- one of the album's fullest and most joyful moments-- as Nguyen turns bad circulation into a metaphor for romantic complacency. Those horns pop up again more quietly on "Violet", drawing frowns across the song as she bids farewell to a friend. Throughout Bee Stings, the Get Down Stay Down keep the music light and fast-paced, revealing a broad range of styles but never boasting about it, and Tucker Martine's suitably slack production emphasizes the sharpness of her voice and the playfulness of her melodies. On "Fear and Convenience", she asks, "Did he hurt you in a new way?" Nguyen sounds generally curious, even as the darker implications of her question loom over the song. Bee Stings is, in a sense, a coming-of-age album, as serious themes underscore her jaunty melodies and adult concerns encroach on her summery youthfulness. Nguyen strikes a fine balance between the two, but here's hoping she doesn't grow up too much.