Music reviews. CD reviews. Critically hip!

Even Jim White’s most ardent supporters would have to admit that the man is a bit of an acquired taste. I come to him somewhat late in the game, as the result of a documentary he filmed and soundtracked in 2005 entitled Searching For The Wrong-Eyed Jesus, a journey through the rural South, about six miles or so off of the interstate. A song by White off of the soundtrack, The Wound That Never Heals, has become one of my favorite pieces of music and caused me to acquire his other work. White is uniformly quirky and low-key, influenced by the white southern Gospel, country, and God knows what else. His deceptively simple arrangements --- guitars, drums, and keys --- are augmented by birdcalls, whistles, found noises, and all sorts of good things that sound weird the first time through, like they belong on the second, and like you couldn’t do without them on the third and later listens.

Transnormal Skiperoo, White’s latest release, is a perfect descriptive title. The compositions are all substantive but tend to slither and slip away if you try to hold onto them to tightly. Crash Into The Sun is the closest you’ll come to a mid-tempo number on here; more typical is Fruit Of The Vine, whereon a banjo, Sunday morning sermon, and a farmer compete with White’s lyrics, only to have the whole thing crash, but not burn, in a cacophony. White’s breathy vocals belie some of the dark and sinister content of his lyrics, particularly on Jailbird, where the dark and haunting imagery contrasts with birdsongs. White’s voice can rise to the occasion, however, particularly on Take Me Away, where a woman hoping for the healing of her adult son’s madness turns away from prayer. This is strange, dark, music at times; White somehow pulls off the trick of loping his songs along while presenting more imagery than one can reasonably handle on the first or even second sitting. One hesitates to use the term “cosmic,” but that will work. The silence between notes, or clusters of notes, seem to drop into eternity in places, especially on Diamonds To Coal, which is a kind of uneasy follow up to The Hollies hit of long ago, “King Midas In Reverse.” And on “ How We Get Lost,” a slightly off-key chorus and whistle create exactly that off-balance feeling of being lost and alone.

The jacket of Transnormal Skiperoo has a reproduction of a political poster bearing the legend, “My record speaks for itself.” Indeed. This is deep stuff. And watch out for Plywood Superman. You might want to open a vein.