Jodie Jean Marston's self-titled album is minimally arranged folk-rock with an unhurried casualness, seemingly as homespun as the out-of-focus picture of a dog posing in front of a drum set on the back cover. It's something like a lo-fi version of Mazzy Star with more Americana, perhaps, the songs phrased like thoughts from an afternoon doze, passing by like clouds on the horizon. That has a moderately pleasing quality, but the material doesn't sound fully formed nor, for that matter, do the arrangements, which seem more like tentative home rehearsals than proper recordings. Some may argue that these are the very features that make these tracks refreshingly preferable to slicker studio product, but polish isn't always a bad thing, and this music would have more stick-to-itness if there was more of a follow-through on the swing in all departments. Unexpected insertions and overdubs of voices and psychedelic effects keep you on your toes and from settling too comfortably into the low-pressure vibe.
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AllMusic Review by Richie Unterberger