College Rock Comes To Chapel Hill

Rainer Maria's achingly earnest, slightly slipshod and often simplified brand of rock is a bit difficult to classify as female-fronted outfits go. Smarter than the head-bopping pop of a band like Letters to Cleo, but lacking the simmering Tampax-fueled fire of Veruca Salt, Rainer Maria are clearly hoping to rock without losing emotional depth or coherence. Take out the female vocalist, and that description sounds suspiciously like Sunny Day Real Estate or Promise Ring; thus, a one-word definition might lead to calling them "femo."

Frontwoman Caithlin DeMarrais' candy-acid vocals are without doubt the Madison, Wisc. trio's most memorable quality, and they should serve the band well this Sunday at Go! Studios in Chapel Hill. DeMarrais' whispers can surge to plaintive screams in seconds, accentuating her mercurial tales of heartbreak. Not everyone could compare a relationship to the rotation of planets without sounding melodramatic, but DeMarrais manages to keep us with her in spite of all that. Perhaps that's why the band's last album-1999's Look Now Look Again-showed up atop so many critics' lists, including Spin's Top 20 albums of the year.

This year's effort, A Better Version of Me, tries to offer what its title suggests. Less arty and more focused than Look Now Look Again, this disc finds the band trying to further hone their presentation. In its nine songs and 41 minutes, this short album serves up an engaging combination of beauty and bluster.

The leadoff track, "Artifical Light," is textbook Rainer Maria, with DeMarrais pushing her voice dangerously close to the limit amid a crashing mess of guitars, drums and backing vocals from guitarist Kyle Fischer. Even with only three instruments, the song sounds sloppy; DeMarrais is the glue holding the mess together. And when she sings, "I'll cut all your wires / I never cared," she sounds like she means business-even if her tone suggests that indifference is hardly the case.

Following the uninspiring, "Thought I Was" come two of the album's strongest efforts. The mellow, slower-paced "Ceremony" takes a sobering look at decay, both between people and within. "The Seven Sisters" is easily the album's standout track, giving a heavy nod to Look Now Look Again's "Planetary." DeMarrais has never sounded better than when she sings, "I am a constellation / cut out in the sky / and if I have stopped burning / will you know in your lifetime?" Its slow build-hitting its twisting, melancholy guitar plateau about four minutes in-gives the song a touch of extravagance that's perfectly matched to its celestial metaphor.

Easily the strangest track on A Better Version of Me, "Lincoln's Pockets" literally catalogs the contents of the assassinated president's pockets, ruminating on his death from there. Unforunately, it's pretty excruciating to listen to: Fischer is a decent backing vocalist, but the band would do well to keep him far from the main mic.

From there, the album turns to tortured romanticism and ambient guitar. DeMarrais weeps for a dead baby in "Atropine," perhaps the album's most inspiring guitar track. "Spit and Fire" is a dominant loud-soft sendup. The closer, "Hell and High Water," ends the record on a high note, with the band rocking out and DeMarrais and Fischer's vocals in perfect harmony.

In many ways, Rainer Maria might be the perfect college rock band. Smart enough for the indie geeks yet accessible enough for the masses, girly enough for the girls yet rocking enough for the boys, the band's show should be a good introduction to what small-scale rock is all about. One more tidbit to satisfy the truly pretentious: the band's name comes from 19th century poet Rainer Maria Rilke. If that isn't oh-so-college-rock, what possibly is?