POP MUSIC REVIEW : Oldham Projects His Lonely Soul Imagery at Troubadour

One intriguing sub-phenomena of the alternative-rock wave is a neo-American Primitive movement--young artists who tap into folk, country and pop roots with a seemingly childlike naivete, the fragility of their presentations bespeaking brittle psyches. Call them the savant -garde.

They range from such truly guileless innocents as Daniel Johnston to such art-conscious provocateurs as L.A.’s Beck and Geraldine Fibbers. But with some it’s hard to tell, which was the case with Will Oldham on Thursday at the Troubadour, fronting the outfit known alternatively as the Palace Brothers, Palace Songs or--as on this night--simply Palace.

Looking like Opie on opium with his straw cowboy hat, auburn mustache and lachrymose manner, Louisville native Oldham’s persona leaned more toward artistic affectation than earthy naturalness. That notion was supported by the fairly thought-out, spare arrangements of his three accompanists, contrasting the more rough-hewn sounds of the Palace records.

In the best moments Thursday it was a moot point, as some of the achingly slow, poetically depressed songs sounded like otherworldly echoes of Hank Williams filtered through Leonard Cohen. But, as the lonely soul imagery--vivid and touching as it could be--stretched over the hourlong set, doubts about authenticity nagged.

Maybe it’s for the best if this is, in fact, merely art for art’s sake. You’d hate to think that Oldham’s really as depressed as he sounded.