Album Review: James X Boyd & The Boydoids - James X Boyd & The Boydoids

James Boyd has been a strong presence in the local scene of recent years, whether it be as buoyant percussionist in multi-limbed garage leviathan Velociraptor, as proto-pop misanthrope in Running Gun Sound or a skinny, Caucasian James Brown in cosmonaut-obsessed soul shakedown party The Majors. Yet standing on his own two feet (anchored by androgynous backing band The Boydoids) Boyd proves how important a presence he can truly be. This self-titled album is unexpected in a lot of ways – it's understated, it's founded in a juxtaposition of posturing and frailty, it's very funny, and above all it has some of the most well-rounded pop songs to come out of Brisbane in a long, long time.

The music itself is tempered, an engine to drive Boyd further into the spotlight. It comes back to Boyd's distinctly Australian drawl, and those laconic lyrics that are as steeped in abject romanticism as they are watching The Simpsons and Sunday morning blues. Ordering takeout “if you want to”, singing songs that you can't get wrong, ditching jobs and travelling the world with painted shoes, being in the movies with friends and people you love – it's all highlighted with wryness and effervescence, warmth and a twinkle in the eye. And it's indelibly entrenched in the Sunshine State, Blue Apia's banana trees proving to be a beautiful sight to see, whilst Brunswick Street Junkies revels in seesawing love for and revulsion of the tenacity of a Fortitude Valley addict.

Boyd's skewed lyricism is something to behold, and it deserves to be front and centre amongst the warmly buzzing guitars, the subtle piano, and the languid brushstrokes.