by Tom Benton

Rob Halverson breathes soul. He oozes the stuff. There were points at his Cactus Cafe record release shindig where he and his rockified Americana big band, The Robinson Ear Machine, seemed ready to lift off; the notion that their pure exuberance for the music might be enough to cast aside the laws of physics binding them to earth was not at all implausible.

In contrast to the remarkable production assembled at the Cactus Cafe, the CD itself is a much more home-grown, do-it-yourself affair; given that Halverson handles lead vocals as well as guitars, basses, violin, and most of the keyboards, the only consistent collaborator on the album is percussionist Michael "Thor" Harris. But all the same, Halverson's got a whole gang of talented friends, and he makes ample room for them. Capable instrumentalists from both Austin and New Orleans show up to drop some tasty sounds on select tracks and, of course, the album is not without the Ear Machine's powerhouse chorus (referred to in the album credits as "girly sangers" and "sexy girls," among other titles).

Though all of these passing references to "American music" might hint at some kind of Spankers-style retro affair, Halverson is certainly no old-school purist when it comes to cutting an album. Recorded on 8-track, then dumped to a "big ol' computer," the CD features not only electric guitars and keyboards, but also curious back-masked effects ("She Cares") and a drum machine-propelled ditty "Elephant Butt" that hints at what Ween might sound like if they spent a couple of months woodshedding on bebop records.

Despite Halverson's clever arrangements and inspired production, this album is still very much about the songs: a collection of original tunes where lyric and melody work in tandem to communicate common themes of the human spirit. From the euphoric "Post Depression Rag" to the soulful longing of "Can You See That Angel," Robinson Ear's Little Whirled of Sound is a spiritual musical journey eager to bring you along for the ride.