"I won't say that I'm lonely, 'cause there's too many voices in my head," sings Dowd in "Ft. Worth, Texas." Fair enough warning that this is not your average singer/songwriter; lines like "be content with your life, it may not get any better" and a preoccupation with murder, death, and evil also make it clear that this is not jovial schizophrenia, on the order of Syd Barrett or Roky Erickson. One hopes for Dowd's sake that the unrelenting tales of madness-fueled evil are not wholly based in real-life experience; otherwise, this is not the guy to meet at the end of a dark alley. It's compellingly creepy, though, if hard to take entirely seriously, and the inventive, unsettling washes of church-organ-from-hell synthesizer make it clear that it's someone who knows what he's doing in a studio, not a Daniel Johnston-type whose childlike dementia is being captured in spite of itself. They're calling this "country" in some circles, but songs like "Welcome Jesus," with its transistor-radio-from-the-foxhole vocals and opening line "welcome Jesus to this dismal swamp," all but ensure that Dowd won't be welcome in Nashville. If Dowd does not become widely known (and, frankly, it would be surprising if he even broke out on a college radio level), this is guaranteed to be hailed as a cult classic 20 years down the line. Adding to the mystique is the lack of a label or catalog number on the CD, though you can get it through Checkered Past Records (3940 N. Francisco, Chicago, IL 60618) if your hip local indie store isn't carrying it. ~ Richie Unterberger|

Rovi