Band of Horses

It’s remarkably unfair to tag a new band with a comparison to an established artist. But right from the opening notes of Band of Horses’ debut, there’s no escaping that singer Benjamin Bridwell is a dead ringer for My Morning Jacket’s Jim James. Same tone, same accent, same range, same manner of projection, with little of the magic or mystery that James is able to convey. The Horses he rides are perfectly competent, but not much more — subtract My Morning Jacket’s Southern rock and new wave leanings, substituted by pleasantly bland Death Cab for Cutie-isms. Of course, this is a recipe for success if all you’re looking for are easy reference points. They’re talented enough that they might find their own voice eventually, but this debut reeks of déjà vu.