Steve Abel, Luke Buda, Donald Reid

Good news. In listening to this fine bunch of albums - all stout solo debuts by local singer-songwriter fellows - one thing was soon thankfully clear about the state of New Zealand music.

We have no answer to James Blunt. For that we are thankful.

Here, we have blokes with guitars pouring their hearts out in many ways: some ironic, some earnest; some sounding like they don't get out much, some sounding like they'd rather be something more than a one-man band.

But none has the ability to induce the crippling cringe I feel every time Mr Blunt honks his adenoids through those lyrics of his.

They are good, one surprisingly so - that's Little Death, by Aucklander Steve Abel. I was quite prepared to write it off - I saw Abel live last year and came away underwhelmed. Also, you tend to assume things about songs written by someone who was a Greenpeace worker and the Green Party candidate for Mangere.

But no, despite the tui on the cover and an opening track called Beautiful Fish (an evolutionary tale in four verses) the whales are left largely unsaved during Little Death's hypnotic 44 minutes.

Abel and his supporting players (including members of Goldenhorse, Pluto, goodshirt and the Tokey Tones) create a dreamy set of parlour-sized country rock and finger-picked nu-folk balladry. It's rich and earthy in its lyrics and captivating in its sparse twang'n'tremelo happy arrangements. Obviously, Abel has a few Will Oldham and Nick Cave albums in his collection.

But he hasn't locked him himself into a grim gothic attic - lovely tunes abound, whether it's his vocal pairing with Goldenhorse's Kirsten Morell on Duet (Lonely I Be), or the hallelujah chorus that erupts at the end of the Ghost of God. It may finish in a less satisfactory manner than it starts, with a couple of shapeless songs near the close, but Little Death is a DIY album which carries no risk of clogging up the recycling bins once its dark charms work their way in.

It's doubtful that Luke Buda has Parliamentary aspirations, but here he is standing as an independent. One of the two frontline talents in Wellington's Phoenix Foundation, Buda has assembled himself a largely home-recorded solo album every bit as poppy and potty as the band's 2005 album Pegasus.

We'll leave it to fan chatrooms to decide whether the best songs of this could have given Pegasus, er, more horsepower. Like the third track Stallion for example.

But it's replete with song gems mined from much the same vein as the group. Among them are the title track, reminiscent of Beck in his more calm and collected moments complete with Beach Boys harmonies; The Prophet which could have been an Edwyn Collins/Orange Juice song in a former life, right up until it hits the button marked "metal" at the end; the likes of The Werewolf and Pennyfarthing suggest Buda has a long-lost, slightly-addled Finn brother.

Some songs sound no more developed than a quiet night in front of the computer. But it sounds like the Phoenix Foundation just got the perfect opening act - one that could give the headliner a run for its money.

The most disturbing thing here? Buda's cover photo shows he has really nice eyes, just like Mr Blunt.

The first surprise with Donald Reid's album is that it isn't on a major label. Apart from the family connection - he's the brother of the feelers' frontman James, who appears here in a back-up role.

At times, it doesn't feel like it's trying to distance itself from the fraternal connection, especially on the powerchord-heavy All The Advice and How the Heart Works.

It was recorded in studios stretching from Auckland to Melbourne to London's Abbey Road, so production-wise it sounds like a bought one.

The songs soon fall into a familiar pattern - acoustic verses, fuzzbox-lifted choruses which are effective enough when the lyrics and the hooks are cutting through the high sheen. Still, songs like Forget Myself, Not A Love Song (think David Gray fronting The Police's Every Breath She Takes) and the rugby club-friendly singalong You and Me My Friend show he's a gifted tunesmith.

But it becomes heavy going past the midway mark and the earnestness and sameness of the remaining songs and their kitchen-sink delivery get the better of it.

And In a Taxi Home's title track wins this column's prize for attempting Blunt-ness, but thankfully falling just short.

STEVE ABEL - LITTLE DEATH (Rhythm Method)
Herald rating: * * * *
He was Green but now he's a brilliant shade of black'n'blue

LUKE BUDA - SPECIAL SURPRISE (Arch Hill)
Herald rating: * * * *
Phoenix Foundation cornerstone strikes out alone, hits home run

DONALD REID - IN A TAXI HOME (Broken/Shock)
Herald rating: * * *
Solid Pop-rock debut solo album from brother of feelers frontman