Don't let the title fool you; The Big Thieves Jail the Little Thieves is really a pretty light, issue-free record. Indeed, it contains a couple of somber tales, but it's 100% free of political messages, condemnations of capitalist pigs, and impassioned rants about our justice system. In fact, I'm not even sure how the title comes into play. I've listened to the record a few times rather closely, and even checked the lyrics and liner notes for concept, but it just doesn't seem to match. But what's the use of faulting a record for having a slightly off title?

Not the journalist and Guided by Voices bassist of the same name, Jim Greer's third album is a grab bag of a pop album, featuring nine stylistically varying, well-crafted songs, all written, produced, and largely performed by Greer. The catch? Well, it actually features 12 tracks in total. Oops. So, yeah, there's a bit of songless, somewhat pointless filler on this 32 minute-long LP. On the whole, though, it's the songs that matter, and with abundant melody and rich production in spades, they end up doing more than their fair share to make up for the album's rambling brief but rambling low points.

The Big Thieves Jail the Little Thieves is one of those rare records in which a key to hearing its content can actually be found in the liner notes. There, the true "concept" can be found, when Greer confides in the listener: "This recording reflects all that has occurred to me in 2000. It is 100% the truth." Of course, it's hard to take some of the lyrics literally, especially when he's singing lines like, "I stole a red jacket from the tree of God/ Think he wanted for a devil to put it on." But Greer still succeeds in making his album genuine and truthful, even during those moments of surreal imagery.

The moderately psychedelic "Perfect Trees" is an excellent opener. Strummed acoustic guitar, djembe, and a tambourine serving as the entire rhythmic base, the song has a stripped-down feel, but manages to sound full and vivid, thanks to lilting organ and layered violins. "Things are more lucid than usual," Greer sings, and he's right so far. Then, somehow, "Perfect Trees" is followed by... a mid-'70s-style funk/soul track? Yes, "In the Nightfall" features a groovy beat, phaser, and a nostalgic analog synth lead, all pulled off surprisingly well, despite Greer's extreme whiteness. (One glance at his blinding cover photo should be sufficient proof of this fact.)

The bouncy folk tune "Stay and Flatter Me" returns to the acoustic guitar and minimal rhythm, this time sprinkled with simple handclaps. But after this, we begin to glimpse the first warning of filler. The song ends with a muted, looped sample of Greer shouting, "Welcome to America!" as a cricket chirps. While it works as a fitting ending to the song, it continues seamlessly for the four seconds, which happens to comprise the full fourth track, "Winery Cricket." Yes, a four-second track, and no, this isn't the Olivia Tremor Control. It's off-putting and strangely out of place.

The worst of the filler on The Big Thieves comes a couple songs later with "Tim Carter vs. Grizzly," as Carter himself plays a repetitive loop and "one-take Jim" plays a few repetitive synth chords for 2½ minutes. It's a self-indulgent jam that disrupts the record's flow. But this track is bookended with two successful songs that each seem to model themselves vocally and stylistically after two decidedly polar opposite artists. "What You Might Have Done" features Greer channeling Steve Mason of the Beta Band and King Biscuit Time, complete with plaintive strumming and a simple, beautiful melody sung in a subdued tenor. By contrast, "Own My Shadow" is an Alice in Chains-inspired hard-rocker with Greer doing a dead-on Jerry Cantrell while still maintaining his flair for penning a good pop hook.

"Autumn Moon" follows as the other example of blatant filler, another instrumental that once again repeats one riff over a looped beat for about two minutes as Greer aimlessly squeezes a toy accordion. But "Just a Young Man" is one of the album's definite highlights, and one of the moments where Greer's disclaimer of truth works most effectively. Besides being incredibly musically substantial, with every guitar strum, violin swoon and snare tap perfectly placed, the lyrics tell the non-fictional tale of a lost friend. The lyrics would sound overly sentimental and dramatic in most other cases, but in this album's context, each word rings with sincerity.

Some other excellent tracks include "In It Now," with its shuffling rhythm and vocal that almost resembles the Residents at their most normal, and "After It All Goes Down," which closes the affair succinctly and gorgeously with solo voice, simple piano and poetic lyrics. If I haven't convinced you by now that Greer's a standout singer/songwriter, then all I can suggest is that you listen for yourself. But don't let the filler distract you, or the title give you the wrong impression. It's just a simple, personal statement of a record-- one that comes well recommended.

-Spencer Owen