Sera Cahoone -- "Only as the Day is Long"

O Sera Cahoone, why so melancholy? Is it the weather up there in Seattle, rainy and gray? Have you outgrown your days of heavy rocking thunder on the drum kit? Whatever the case, we all need to sing praises for her lovely new record, "Only as the Day is Long" on Seattle's independent Sub Pop label.

It's a thing of rain-soaked beauty. Not thunderstorms, but an afternoon of just enough rain to keep you indoors, a light and steady beating on the roof, like a drummer using brushes. The sound is acoustic and intimate, as if while you are at the window looking out upon the rack and ruin, Cahoone and her band are in the next room creating the soundtrack to your loneliest thoughts, moment by moment.

Hers is one of those records that seeps in a little at a time. The songs are stark and thoroughly lovely ruminations on getting older, disaffection and trying to find one's way in life without a guidebook. Her band comes along for the ride and includes banjo, violin, pedal steel, acoustic bass, acoustic guitar, harmonica and spare drumming.

Writing songs, playing guitar and singing weren't things that came naturally to Cahoone. For years, she sat toward the back of the stage hiding behind a drum set, which suited her just fine.

She recorded and toured with some rock bands of note, including Seattle band of the moment, Band of Horses. But as she got older, her tastes veered toward country, and she realized she was "completely in love with the pedal steel guitar."

The mournful potential of this instrument, a staple of country music, is put to good use in Cahoone's songs, providing just enough spook and ache to melancholy up the atmosphere a bit.

Cahoone's no diva, neither in the way she sings, nor in the emotional content of her songs. There's a hesitant, aching quality to her voice that makes you both trust her and root for her. The sound is stark, the production (Cahoone is listed with a credit as co-producer) unfussy, a perfect match for the emotional content. There's plenty of space in the mix for you to pour your grief into.

This is the record to put on after a night of missed opportunity, when you have to face the truth, and ruefully admit you are alone and slightly inebriated.

The rain will do the rest.

 Amelia -- "A Long, Lovely List of Repairs"

So, you're not in such fine fettle that you couldn't use some fixing up. You need "A Long, Lovely List of Repairs." This is the title that Portland, Oregon, band Amelia chose for their third CD. It's the perfect music for late summer, a wistful kiss-off to a season you are reluctant to see pass.

There is a lot more torch than twang on this release. The playing is almost unbearably tasteful, with a little piano here, a crunchy guitar there, as they gently push on the bruise they just raised.

For this release more than their others, it seems that songwriter/guitarist Scott Weddle has been listening to a lot of Fado, the sepia-tinged folk music from Portugal. But there are also elements of after-hours jazz in their songs, a deceptive simplicity that belies a careful attention to detail.

But this is singer Teisha Helgerson's show. I can think of no good reason why Norah Jones is so revered and Helgerson is not. If talent and imagination were true yardsticks of success in music, Helgerson would live next door to Jones in the high rise of American music stars.

It's a wonder the record isn't darker. Helgerson has been battling cancer for three years now resulting in a bone marrow transplant. It's hard not to hear the pain of her struggle in some of the lyrics, but there's not an ounce of self-pity in her delivery. Her illness is something neither she nor the band has in any way advertised.

Songwriter Weddle keeps things grounded in melancholy though. Many of the songs might be described as lovely, achingly so. You might want to weep at the hearing.

He and Helgerson have concocted a simple, stripped-down sound that serves to amplify the emotions. Helgerson's clear, lovely voice will certainly cause you to reaffirm your faith in the power of beautiful things. If you aren't affected by her voice, the lyrics will wear down whatever hardness remains in your heart.

I have one quibble. A few of the songs, lovely though they may be, lack dynamics ... that sense of tension between emotion allayed and emotion released. Fancy talk to say I would like to hear Helgerson wail, just once or twice. I'd like to hear her bear down and sing her ass off, simply put.

But it's of little use to criticize a record for what's missing. What is here is exquisite. The list of what might need to be repaired on this record is very short, and loveliness is in no short supply.

Want more great CD reviews? Check out last week's review of Agnostic Mountain Gospel Choir and Blanche.