On 'Doughboy Hollow,' the band's fourth and most consistent release, Died Pretty makes good on the promise evident in its previous outings. The album's cover is adorned with a sepia-toned photo of a big, cloud-darkened sky over a ruined car and a ravaged weather vane enmeshed in overgrown weeds. The images suggest abandonment, loss and retribution – and through this album's eleven songs, those images are lent meaning and weight. They embody the contradictions inherent in accessible, even beautiful pop-rock music that conveys dark messages honestly.

Doughboy Hollow opens with "Doused," the somber tale of a gambler who can no longer fool himself, whose "Midas touch has all dried up." Singer-songwriter Ronald S. Peno sings in a defeated baritone with a shattering conviction: "There's a noisy machine/Hey, and somebody's won/I keep feeding this thing/Somebody fetch my gun/There's no more gold down here." Steve Clark's melodic bass paces Brett Myers's airy guitar fills through the narrative, until the climax breaks the song apart and it shudders to a stop. The remaining ten selections include love songs that unmask the nature of helplessness ("D.C."), brooding treatises on self-loathing and hatred ("The Love Song"), swirling reflections on self-determination and its limits ("Stop Myself"), and explorations of spiritual debt that would be anthems if not for their guilt and regret ("Disaster").

With producer Hugh Jones – Echo and the Bunnymen, Edie Brickell, Kitchens of Distinction – Died Pretty combines Australian folk melodies, near-Gothic heaviness and rock & roll dynamics to create a sound that causes shivers. Doughboy Hollow is a gorgeous effort that tells a story – albeit a sad one – with intelligence and grace. On the current "alternative" scene, replete with escapist posturing and forgettable, next-big-thing ambitions, it is an achievement worth celebrating. (RS 625)

THOM JUREK