Wow! It’s great that, in this time of largely unsurprising and uninspiring music, an album can still come along and, well, surprise and inspire. I’d never heard of Jai Alai, but I instantly fell for Drive Safe. Apparently, Jai Alai is from New Orleans, but they sound so much like the Sea and Cake that I had to scan the Internet for any links to the likes of John McEntire or Thrill Jockey Records. (I didn’t find any, but if I were to learn that Sam Prekop entered the Witness Protection Program I would not be a bit surprised.) However, this is not meant to be anything but a ringing endorsement: the world needs more good music, not less, and these guys have the chops to sit among the best of the postrockers. From the opener “Radio,” lean and clean guitar lines dance with a sure-footed bass to the polyrhythmic drums, but this isn’t merely a jazzfest. Now and again the vibe is offset by some modern technology, such as the synth in “Real Job” or the Vocoder on “Brut and Hairspray at a Summer Camp Dance,” and this gives the proceedings a bit more of a rough-around-the-edges feel than some of the pristine tracks by their Chicago forebears. And hey, they know their history, playfully working the melody of Francis Lai’s “A Man and a Woman” into one of the breaks in “With the Windows Down.” For a band named after such a wickedly fast sport, Jai Alai has a light touch perfect for summer evenings. Buy it.

Innocent Words

Like a siren calling longily to a lighthouse, Jai Alai lures with a soft heartfelt sound engulfed by ocean foam and wash. Jai Alai represents their New Orleans home like the close to sinking city it is, conveying the back alleys and marshy cemeteries more than yards of beer and promiscous beads. Their vision is less analytic Anne Rice than inflective Poppy Z. Brite, it’s an Absynthian missive. The vocals ease in and out of the periphery as an abandoned yellow farmhouse viewed from a train cabin’s panoramic window. Never overbearingly forefronted, they Prekop along and help induce sleep or enjoy lemonade on Sunday afternoon. It is an album to fall asleep to. Not from boredom but from coaxing, laying over your head a Vellux blanket of dream induction. As far as adding an electronic element to music, most bands tend to get a little far-sighted and often muffle their effort. Often it is a bad brew for past fans. Jai Alai is smart. They sneak the techy sounds in almost subconsciously. When the wavering trumpet intersects with laptop and you notice it, you kind of love its smart and considerate juxtaposition. As a whole the album is mature and round. The test of time is inherently important and this album hasn’t seen a shelf yet.

The Satellite

This is what it is like to stand high atop a city building, arms spread wide, eyes closed, to kick your right foot out, smile, then follow through, taking one hearty step onto a ground that sits 13 stories below the bottom of your foot. You free fall, eyes still closed, calm as a bomb. It’s a lovely day: warm sun; baby-bluer than normal sky; brighter, whiter clouds. You fall faster, brushing against death on your way down. Then you hit– warm ocean water. Your eyes are still closed, and now your body is sinking. You smile and completely relax yourself, allowing your body’s natural buoyancy to return you to the surface. You face up, sun beating down on your eyelids, causing the black that your closed eyes sees into a beautiful, womb-like red. You let the tide carry you ashore, and plant you in a bed of sand. Your arms are on fire from the heat. The beach disappears from beneath you, not interrupting your peace, and becomes the black, vast nothingness of death and sleep. Violins sing, trumpets call, and then Drive Safe comes to an end.

Tastes Like Chicken

From the school of post-rock comes Jai Alai and their aptly titled record that would be an awesome soundtrack for rolling through yellow lights. It’s not all just bleeps and boops; there are some tight riffs interwoven into their ambient, jazz-inspired landscape.

Punk Planet

Get ready - it’s another multihyphenate. This postrock-dreampop-electro-funk ensemble creates a smooth, slowly undulating, oceanic roll of sound that lifts up the listener and leaves them floating a few comfortable feet off the floor. Call it relaxing, call it stoner-riffic, it does what it sets out to do - give the listener a good time. Best on headphones or in a warm tub.

The Colorado Daily