Margot and the Nuclear So and So’s is, to put it plainly, a solid band. Its songs are dynamically arranged without feeling clustered and they have a clear knack for melody. Lead singer Richard Edward’s lyrics are emotionally provocative without being overwrought, and the band possesses a rare modicum of pithy, rakish charm that gives it enough eclecticism to avoid the confines of a specific genre.

Margot and the Nuclear So and So’s

Buzzard
Mariel

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Really, the only thing holding this band back from the fabled gates of commercial success and radio play (other than their affinity for dropping the F-bomb) is its name. Calling it a mouthful is putting it mildly. Perhaps the name is the band’s hipster, self-sabotaging way of warding off the possibility of mainstream fans. Whatever. Fumbling over those ten awkward syllables is worth it to listen to the band's newest album, Buzzard.

On the surface, Margot and the Nuclear So and So’s are fairly traditional. Their folksy air may be more heavily charged than 2008’s whimsical Not Animal, but the tracks still have a mellow gait with just enough hooks to make even apathetic music listeners prick their ears.

This time around, the band draws from its arsenal some chunkier electric guitars and neurotic freak-out sessions (see opener “Birds”). However, despite the attention to melody and considerable flair for pop, this band is frankly weird as hell.

A prime example is “Your Lower Back.” It begins with a male narrator speaking to the listeners in a deadpan Mr. Moviephone voice. “Sex. It drives our desires, our passions, our relationships with others / Sex is fun … It can even take us to the brink of madness.” Then a moment of silence. Cue a dainty acoustic guitar and giggling child, and the song begins. The fuzzed-out guitar perfectly offsets the chipper pace, and the chorus is backed up by breathy “ooohs.” The instruments fade, and a dialogue begins over radio crackle. A man’s voice: “Tell me about your eighteenth birthday. What happened?” The girl’s response: “I went to a strip club, and got a job.” Then a tape loop of screaming over a tinny swirl of drumbeats, and “Your Lower Back” comes to an end. What?

“Will You Love Me Forever?” begins with a lone Pixies-style driving bass, and the droll line “If I could roll up my money and smoke it / I would.” Perhaps the poppiest song on the album, the chorus strides in with Ringo-style fills, triumphant electric guitars and a genuinely stressed-sounding Edwards morosely begging to know just what the title asks. The chorus is not without a pang of melancholy. The “why me?” attitude of the song doesn’t beg for sympathy. If anything it emotionally resonates with the listener, because who doesn’t want to know whetherthey’ll be loved forever?

Buzzard is definitely a small step into Weirdsville for Margot and the Nuclear So and So’s (in a good way). The album does lack cohesion, but the non-sequitur quality is what makes it work. They can go from a Wilco-esque alt-country twang “Claws Off” to borderline Gothic “Let’s Paint our Teeth Green.”

The heavier sound can sometimes overwhelm Edwards’ traditionally pretty voice, but there is still enough acoustic balladry (“Lunatic, Lunatic, Lunatic,” “I Do”), to let his vocals get their due. Though the musical quality runs rich on Buzzard, it is still rather difficult to discern what the heck they are singing about. If we are in Weirdsville, then weird is definitely worth listening to.