Onelinedrawing The Volunteers

Stater Jonah Matranga trades in intelligent, folksy emo, and on this, his sophomore release as Onelinedrawing, he fulfils much of the promise of earlier efforts both under this moniker and as previous incarnations such as Far and New End Original. There's a real indie, handmade feel to Matranga's work, from his self-arranged tours, through his unpredictable live line-ups, to the word-of-mouth fan-base garnered through his all-important message board.

After fronting prototype emo youngsters Far in the 1990s, whose career amounted to a handful of releases and a brief spell on Sony, Matranga has attempted through Onelinedrawing to foment connection and exchange between fellow musicians, collaborators and fans. He sold 30,000 copies of his four self-released EPs to fans through his website and at live shows. Then New End Original emerged in the early 00s, an electric version of this project, which has now ceded to the Jonah solo-collaboration project we witness here.

Matranga's sophomore effort steps out to rather unlikely levels of expectation, not only because of the burgeoning support for the band garnered from constant touring and releasing, but also because the emo legacy has snowballed, leaving the model of emotional rawness, aching instrumentation and punk heritage central on the musical horizon. Nevertheless, The Volunteers is no work of bandwagon jumping. Despite the handmade ethos, there's slickness to the production and a diversity to the musical styles adopted that pushes the envelope, as on the strange background noise that is Portland. At many stages, quiet reflection allows focus on personal and clever lyrics - see the genuinely funny Oh, Boys - while Matranga invites guest vocalists and musicians to add depth and breadth to the fare on offer. There's also range to the album, taking in glam and grunge, urgent guitars and background noise, yet throwing in choral sweetness and ethereal backing vocals. Over It is a messy romp, while A Ghost sounds not unlike Fleetwood Mac, quiet and lilting, but building slowly. Stay beguiles with intriguing voices lurking somewhere on the track, before We had a deal displays urgent guitars and snatched vocals. On Believer Matranga's distinctive voice cracks in a quiet ballad.

Where The Volunteers falls down, surprisingly, is in the excessively slick production. Despite the ethos and lyrics, musically this is not the handmade, indie effort you might expect. I'd prefer more angles, a little more roughness. Still though, the songs shine through, making this not only a fine example of a maligned genre, but also a distinctive example of Matranga's unique voice and talent.