Somewhere in Chicago a girl gushes. She clasps onto her headphones with damp palms, trying to squeeze the smooth sounds of Geoff Farina deeper into her ears. Her melting arteries, scorched with the molten blood of her fast beating heart, warm her extremeties with the knowledge that Geoff's songs are for her. She's a very lucky girl.

But we're all lucky. We can all hug headphones to our temples and experience the Romeo-tones and heartbreak of Farina's solo album. Farina primarily attempts to pay rent with his splendid full- time band, Karate. On Usonian Dream Sequence, though, Farina strips it down to just a- boy- and- his- guitar. The simplicity is endearing. I mean, he could possibly have even recorded this album from his bed.

Farina's clean voice soothes like hot, milky chamomile. His lyrics and liquid phrasing captivate alone. One could sit fixated on a speaker even after extracting the guitar. His heart bleeds intelligently. His poetry and stories rarely resort to cliches and fluff. His acoustic songs are short and sweet, built on serene strumming with occasional accompanying electric touches of quiet feedback and solos. Hints of country and folk surface, yet the mood is mainly skeletal pop. The landscape shifts. City skyscrapers deliquesce into Southwestern palisades. Boulders morph back into hotdog vendors.

So, just heed this: anyone who holds on dearly to every whisper from Elliott Smith's lips, should snuggle under a comforter with Geoff Farina.

-Brent DiCrescenzo