Cate Le Bon's No Mug

In the new movie Inside Llewyn Davis, the Coen brothers gently poke fun at the American folk purists of the early '60s. Growing up in England in the '80s, I remember the Brit equivalent being lampooned with less mercy. Having food in his beard seemed to be one of the prerequisites of the hopelessly earnest U.K. folkie. That and the habit of speaking in Chaucer's English.

There's no such stigma attached to folk these days. Or anything else, except maybe rock music and all its increasingly sad and ugly iterations. Freak folk sent everybody scurrying back to nature (with their mobile devices) 10 years ago. It's been an upward trend ever since, with your Fleet Foxes and your Midlakes and the like establishing a nice resolve between art and iTunes sales.

Which brings us to Cate Le Bon's lovely new record -- her third -- Mug Museum. Le Bon gets slotted into the psych-folk category by the committee of experts who decide these matters, but the casual listener might be reminded of a less wholesome Mary Hopkin after voice training by Nico. Or perhaps Sandy Denny as the weirdo girl next door, if next door happens to be Wales.

Le Bon hails from Wales but relocated to Los Angeles for Mug Museum. A recent Guardian article reveals that her U.S. visa categorizes the singer-songwriter as an "alien with extraordinary abilities," and that's your starting point for her music. There's nothing particularly innovative going on in this guitar-bass-drum setup, but the hooks are gorgeous, and Le Bon's quirks percolate through everything. When she hardens her voice and scales a mountain in the vaguely ridiculous climax of "Duke," we're utterly hooked, and possibly in love. At the very least, we're inside her world.

Best of all, perhaps, is that Los Angeles couldn't obscure or blunt Le Bon's Welshness. From Super Furry Animals to Manic Street Preachers -- both of which have intersected with Le Bon in her relatively short career -- the very character of the region tends to be unmistakable. Mug Museum comes with its own, inevitable kind of purism, and it's totally captivating.