What Andean folk has to do with Portlandlish folk (clue: not much)

Little Wings - "Scuby"

And I'm back.

I drove to St. Louis, Chicago and back to Washington, DC before flying to Peru for eight days. Yet, despite copious exposure to the jewels of hipsterdom and the most tourist-friendly songs of Andean folk, I could never put away the smooth, sun-drenched early-'70s soft rock that has dominated this blog's recent posts. (One explanation: You can't step three feet into the Andes without hearing "El Condor Pasa," the region's best known song, which Simon & Garfunkel covered famously in 1970. Even in coastal Lima, duos with guitars and sikus swarm to the outdoor tables of tourist-frequented cafes and, almost invariably, "El Condor Pasa" is the first song they play. Another explanation: I should have left my iPod at home.)

Anyway, Little Wings has a new album, Soft Pow'r, but seven years after the lo-fi outfit's frontman Kyle Field fled California for Oregon and adopted the Pacific Northwest's very twee brand of folk, he's still liable to channel early-'70s burn-out-then-chill-out rock. Only, he prefers its darker, more damaged side: Field played at Brandeis University, my recent alma mater, this spring, and the second half of his set was dominated by requests (best of all, a glorious version of "Boom!") and two covers, Fleetwood Mac's "Dreams" and one of my favorite Neil Young songs, "Ambulance Blues."

The latter cover, from Young's brilliant On the Beach album, perfectly complemented the five-or-so new songs Field played, "Scuby" best of all. Field exhibits his usual restraint here, but rather than pair it with the buoyancy of 2002's Light Green Leaves or the eccentricities/idiosyncrasies of 2005's Grow, all he brings is mournfulness. It's a far cry from the silliness that characterized Little Wings when I first heard them, years ago, but there's something at work here--perhaps Young's severity matched with Field's naturalist lyrics?--that I just can't get away from.