Pop culture moves in mysterious ways. Who could have predicted that young rappers from Staten Island, N.Y., would've seized upon kung fu movies as a metaphor for their music? Or that hip-hop beats would've gained popularity in the dusty desert towns of Mexico? Or that Archer Prewitt, a singer-songwriter-guitarist-arranger-illustrator living in Chicago, would find his voice in the ethereal English art rock of the early Seventies?

Prewitt brings to mind the axiom "still waters run deep," both for his gentle demeanor and his reliance on naturalistic lyrical imagery. His mellotron-laden songs and mild vocals invoke the ballads of early Pink Floyd and King Crimson, minus the instrumental freakouts. But his signature influence is far poppier: Beatle George Harrison, whose brand of placid intelligence animated Prewitt's quietly burning set at New York City's Mercury Lounge on Oct. 30. Whether gently finger-picking one of his vintage hollow-body guitars or keying a rising instrumental flurry, Prewitt maintained absolute composure as he, bassist Mark Greenberg, drummer Steve Goulding and trumpeter-organist Dave Max Crawford unfurled their elegant orchestral melodica.

Prewitt, who has made a career of playing intricate indie-pop with the Coctails and the Sea and Cake, is touring behind his second solo album, the finely crafted White Sky. Though the album features ample strings and the bristling saxophone of Paul Mertens (Brian Wilson, Chicago Jazz Ensemble), the stripped-down touring band made their job look easy. Jumping from the visceral "Motorcycles" to the unobtrusively funky "Shake," they played loosely and precisely, Crawford braying loudly through his trumpet or warbling quietly through his mute. The small art-student-type audience clapped appreciatively, if modestly.

Prewitt shined most on the ballads, including the sweeping "Final Season," which sounded like an elegy for an broken romance, the delicate "I'll Be Waiting" and George Harrison's "Beware of Darkness" (from All Things Must Pass). All three songs use natural imagery to limn emotional confusion, with lyrics such as, "The clouds will end up finding you/And raining down inside of you," "We've a ways to go/Fading in and out of the sun," and "They hopelessly surround you/In the dead of night/Beware of silence."

After finger-picking the serene "I'll Be Waiting," Prewitt looked down and said, "Somehow, the distortion pedal was on for that." People chuckled, but that moment captured the spirit of the night: A dangerous noise lurked behind the beautiful facade of the songs. But no one had noticed until later on, not even Prewitt himself.

RODD McLEOD
(November 4, 1999)