Or cut your throats...: Oh, the scorn and ignominy heaped upon today's sensitive singer/songwriters. From Bright Eyes to the ghost of Elliot Smith, these acoustic guitar plucking boys (and a few girls) thrust out their chests in mock control of their condition, hoping to somehow rise about the muck and mire of 1000 similarly talented and directed wannabes, all rushing headlong to day jobs at Starbucks and Old Navy or occasional gigs opening for John Waite.

Blame it on Kurt Cobain, not Nick Drake. For most of these emotional tunesmiths mine a boringly similar trajectory and terrain: they're lost, they're hoping, they're crying, they're in misery, they don't need you, they can't find their feet, they need you, their world is built on promises, they're short on breath, they love you, they hate you. And for God's sake why you can't just love them back? Emotion trumps melody. Singing out of tune is a rite of passage. Production can amount to anything from a tin can and a toothbrush to a full orchestra of sampled strings and electronic bleeps and blips.

Blame it on Jewel and Alanis, not Bob Dylan. Blame it on the pay to play concert system where young acts must pay the headliner to join the tour. So instead of an established act giving a hand up to a worthy lesser known artist, money becomes the motivating factor, not talent.

San Francisco's Matt Nathanson sings with an arms-outstretched posture that is all embracing and life affirming, and informed by tear-flecked, tear-jerking memories. Matt's tremulous vocals and glistening guitar work make his thrumming, light as air music a sure thing for TV commercials and teen throb soundtracks. But you can't deny the hum-along attractiveness of a song like "Gone," taken from Matt's sixth and most accomplished album, Some Mad Hope. As swirling and sunny as a day spent sailing, "Gone" rushes into the ether on a galloping beat, a frothy melody and whirring steel guitar,  Matt singing "Don't expect me back" with a gleeful sense of freedom.  He's gone, gone, gone, and you can't stop him. Cause you probably broke his heart. Blame it on James Blunt, not David Gray.

"Gone"

Thirty something Jonah Matranga has recorded as Jonah Sonz Matranga: Songs I Hope My Mom Will Like (1994), onelinedrawing: Visitor and The Volunteers (2004), and as a member of Far, New End Original and Gratitude. Matranga typifies the industrious singer songwriter with a yearning voice, acoustic guitar and gentle attitude. I love the world. Why doesn't the world love me back?

On And, his forthcoming album for Philadelphia's Limekiln records, Matranga combines pathos with humor, toe tapping rhythms with paddlewheel ready melodies. He's sweet, he's insecure, he's a puppy in love.

"So Long" features his peaceful strumming and twilight memories, Matranga planning to "keep on waving til I'm sure you're gone." His girl has left him all alone. "So long. Bye Bye. Be brave, be strong." What's up, Joe? Has your girl left for Iraq while you're busy being Jonah? "I got no idea why," you sing, but you will keep on waving, til you're she's gone. A chamber string quartet and brushed drums accompany Jonah in his sweet misery. We leave them to contemplate what Jonah will do with the rest of his day. Chocolate muffins and Frappuccino seem like a good choice.

"So Long" (mp3)
from "And"
by Jonah Matranga
(Limekiln Records)
More On This Album