If there were merely a modicum of justice in this world upon which we toil, there would stand in Athens, Georgia a large and grand museum committed solely to Jack Logan. Interspersed among the Chevelles on blocks and Do- It- Yourself Engine Rebuilding exhibits, his songs would fill the great hall's expanse. There, students of the American pop song, having traveled long and often precarious roads, would gather to unlock Logan's storytelling mastery. They would learn how Logan deftly navigates the borders between simplicity and complexity, infusing just enough detail into his songs to engage our imaginations, while remaining vague enough to allow them wide berth. Eager ears would come to understand how his beautifully unspectacular voice and ease with melody invites listeners into songscapes that often remain in their ears long after encountered. We would take our children there and allow them, nee, force them to bask in Logan's passion for great American music in all of its forms.

Alas, we live in a world where justice is rationed sparingly, and frankly, the Jack Logan museum, while a noble and worthy ideal, dwells at the end of a long line of humanity's little self- help projects. But don't fret, dear reader, I, too, after imagining the Jack Logan museum earlier today, became despondent upon the realization that its existence would most likely never step outside my hallucinogen- induced daydreams. Luckily, I was able to console myself with Logan's major label debut, Buzz Me In, and I recommend you do the same.

Those familiar with Logan's four previous full- lengths will recognize many of the players, as well as the usual cast of anthemic rockers, quietly odd comtemplations, and faithful country and blues offerings that comprise the album. But while the foundations are familiar, producer Kosmo Vinyl brings Logan's decidedly lo-fi sound closer to the nineties. Also, either Vinyl's production hand, or, more likely, Logan's own maturity, fills out the songs as never before. While most of the offerings on Logan's Bulk and Mood Elevator are charcoal sketches, purposefully incomplete, here, he paints with a full palette. While I hesitate to term the change an improvement (the off- kilter, slightly unfinished natures of those previous offerings are still uniquely compelling), it is made successfully. Logan's songs are buoyed throughout the album by timely and adept solos and fully realized musical aspirations that denote forethought and a bit more of the genius Logan humbly conceals and most of the world blissfully ignores.

I began this paragraph doling kudos out to the various tracks on Buzz Me In that I found especially successful, but deleted the list when I realized they compromised a vast majority of the album. In our perfect world, young master, the construction types would be hard at work completing the addition to the Jack Logan museum that the album assuredly warrants. Professors would be feverishly updating lesson plans and hopeful students from around the globe would be alighting on their dangerous pilgrimage. They would hit the American roads, car stereos blaring Buzz Me In as they headed south, perhaps finding all they seek along the way.

-Neil Lieberman