The man himself, Tommy Santee Klaws, has a brutal, quavering wail. At one moment, he's threatening, a well-reasoned exponent of dread. The next, he's the spokesperson for failed animals (think the weaker elk who did not win a mate, or a caterpillar with parasitic wasp larvae eating its guts.) The band provides a commotion of agreement, punctuating the peaks and valleys like patches of forest. When they sing together, their voices harmonize like clouds in different weather. The upright bass makes doom-laden growls. The drummer caresses his cymbal with a violin bow. Beneath everything, toys and crickets, frogs, chirping birds, and weather act as framing devices, overtly relocating your brain.

There are moments that bloom and flourish—suddenly—and your fingers mash at the increase volume button to make it even bigger, to somehow get it loud enough that it becomes tangible: vines growing up your chair, coyotes howling, flies struggling inside pitcher plants, a campfire. This cannot just be sound. Despite its seriousness, there is something very devious here, something a little romantic too. Occasionally the music has a smirk; the awesomeness of feeling wretched.

The band is a motley assortment. Sam Seree, Tommy's younger brother, complements Tommy's plaintive bellows with cavernous, assured accents, filling in the sonic gaps, giving the songs a thicker skin. Donna Jo, Tommy's wife, is in charge of the toys, playing with scissors, a tennis ball, spoons, chains, a kazoo, a baby bullhorn, windchimes, a thunder shaker and a toy piano, among other things, constructing friendly riots. Dirk Doucette, on drums, represents the band's southern front, providing them with a refuge in Escondido, where much of Rakes was recorded and mixed by Dirk. Tom Paige, known for his heroic and impossible hair, provides gut-punching menace with his upright bass. Formerly, he drove taxis. Jason Boles, mandolin, is a member of three other bands, Catfoot Spirit, Trembling Tabernacle of Piorek and Veeya, and adds his voice to the band’s choir.

Tommy Santee Klaws has existed in some form for nearly a decade, conjuring miniature tornadoes around Southern California. Tommy began recording his own music in 2001, in the wake of his mother’s death. His discography spans seven self-released albums, a 7-inch and one EP. Rakes, his eighth album, is being distributed digitally by Imaginary Music, a label started by Lol Tolhurst, a founding member of The Cure.

Rakes, was recorded nomadically, in the months between winter and spring, across the pacific southwest, some in studios, some in an old garage and other homes. Field recordings were captured at a pond, in the rain, among the birds, adding to the soundscape provided by Donna’s toys and childhood amusements.

Like some of the best Los Angeles new-folky type acts, Tommy Santee Klaws understands the trick of making nostalgia work both ways; into some bright future and the virtuous, murky past. Skinning the old to dress the new. Read more on Last.fm. User-contributed text is available under the Creative Commons By-SA License; additional terms may apply.