Summer release schedules being as meager as they are, we're forced to seek out other sources of new music. With not exactly this in mind, I was gamely preventing the bar of NYC's C Note from collapsing into the greedy maw of Manhattan geology.

Because of the strain on my body caused by my exerting an opposite force against the durable wood finish of the bar, I sought refreshment. As I drained my sixth bottle, Shameless took the tiny C Note stage. The strain I was experiencing immediately lifted. Robert Watkins' twangy Stratocaster recalled classic Richard Thompson; Anne Husick's powerful voice was as reassuring as her resolute, determined lyrics. The other members of the band performed with passion and with skill. I had to buy a Shameless album-- a souvenir. And so I picked up International Sweetheart. Now, I remember that Saturday evening performance vividly, and this mini-album isn't the same band. It features a different guitarist, and this fact truly alters the sound.

Absent is Robert Watkins' grace. In its place, Chris Gibson's distorted grunge muddies the waters. However, during "Hurricane," Gibson's storminess mimics the turmoil Husick describes. Sadly, Husick's subtle shading of both lyric and melody is too often lost amid the brash reverb. But not all is lost, by any means. After several listens, I've developed a filter that allows me to tune out the distortion and concentrate on the simple beauty. Take "Your Version of Me," for example. On the face of it, it's a plain examination of one person willing another to be someone wholly different than they are. No major awards will be presented for such slight insights. Yet, when this apparently banal lyric is set to Husick's heart- melting melody, its appeal becomes clear.

This quality reaches its peak during "Grey Symphony," appropriately closing International Sweetheart. While the previous five songs have spoken of grit and determination, "Grey Symphony" mutters of doubt, hesitancy, and confusion: "I just can't go on/ No longer have anything to believe in/ Thinking that time will heal/ But it just slips away." Of course, Husick saves her most memorable melody for last. Still, it's a bittersweet, acquired taste.

Having seen the recent line-up of the band, I very much look forward to hearing an album featuring the present variant of this awkwardly named band. There is nothing shameless here whatsoever, and incidentally, almost no trace of Husick's previous group, Band of Susans. Summer's lease has indeed all too short a date if we can happen upon such distinct surprises as this.

-Paul Cooper