Do you wish clubs were smokier? And do you dream of sitting in the front row, in the midst of that smoke, listening to a literate singer-songwriter sadden a stage? Do you imagine him accompanied only by a guitar and the love seat upon which he sits? If so, check out Baum. His voice is soft and forlorn, and very similar in sound to Kurt Cobain's. From the album's punny title to its odd song titles and his lyrics, Baum grabs your attention and holds your central focus.

Unlike Cobain, however, H. Baum seems easily amused. He's tickled by a good turn of phrase, and never invests in emotion long enough to settle for raw lines over cooked. You'll focus less on the visceral push behind the music than the intellectual content within; Baum is clever, and Living Room evinces that. You won't hear howls of pain -- just chess pieces crossing a board in three moves or less. In many songs, including "Down the Rabbit Hole", Baum croons along with his guitar in the World of Mutes, whereas rowdier tracks like "Kill are" slice through the ears. When Baum accompanies himself with a drum or a drum kit, the music does not sound as inspired or raging as, say, Grant Hart, but comes with a hominess a la Calvin and the K Family. It's the kind of beat you get when you tap your foot to keep time -- a beat so simple you overlook or under-appreciate it.

Mostly, Baum's songs are led by the fitful strumming of his acoustic guitar, followed by a continual draggy lo-fi hiss. He alternates nasal singing with nasal speech, and strings his words out so slowly that they sound like drawling. The melodies are less memorable, but as speedy as an epileptic fit, and there's an overall impression of smart musical meandering. Baum tries out different musical ideas with the same intensity with which he plays with language, but it sometimes feels as if he's rushing through ideas that deserve a leisurely examination, as if he's so grateful to have conceived them, and so worried that they'll vanish, that he can't leave them for another day.

Baum is thematic and full of creativity. While he does not exploit his best moments to the fullest, he takes his ideas to logical conclusions. Over nine lengthy songs, he fits a wide variety of his musical ideas -- including some so insular that you'll be surprised they left the family room floor -- into his disc. They give his Living Room the same appeal offered by a show like Changing Rooms. His artistic explorations create new rooms in your head; they won't always be a perfect match for your temperament, but they will be different, new...and Baumy.