Jump, Little Children: Vertigo

The South Carolina band Jump, Little Children has suffered from poor timing throughout its career: Signed to Hootie & The Blowfish's vanity major-label imprint just as that group's popularity was waning, its existence was barely acknowledged by its own label until months of grassroots touring ignited a bit of radio play. Recently dropped from the label (along with the rest of Hootie's roster), JLC is self-releasing—with as little fanfare as might be expected of an essentially do-it-yourself project—Vertigo, a disarmingly refined and overtly commercial collection of lush, fleshed-out, impeccably produced, agreeably smooth pop. Stripping away some of the more challenging rough edges of 1998's Magazine, mainly in the form of most of Matt Bivins' often-ponderous spoken-word monologues, Vertigo is catchy and engaging throughout, meeting in the middle between efficient classic pop and the more sweeping ambition of U2 and Jeff Buckley. The seven-minute "Mother's Eyes" cribs Buckley's dynamic sound and dramatic range, but singer Jay Clifford is more than up to the formidable task, and while Magazine's quality spiked during its marvelous ballads ("Cathedrals," "Close Your Eyes"), the sweetly earnest "Yearling" is here more than matched by the briskly rocking likes of "Angeldust (Please Come Down)." Jump, Little Children still lacks a huge promotional machine, but it never really had one to begin with. Besides, with songs this strong, coupled with the inevitable endless tour, Vertigo is sure to find a healthy chunk of the audience it deserves. At least this time, the band gets to keep the profits for itself.