I spent the first minute or so of This Land is Your Land carefully examining the CD packaging, looking for the Elephant 6 logo.

The Wee Turtles embrace the same basic Beach Boys-derived pop spirit as Beulah, but it's rendered in a far more relaxed, less exacting style. Where Beulah are crisp, the Wee Turtles are muffled, playful and slovenly...but the hooks remain intact. Anyone seeking yummy pop songs laced with ba-ba choruses and a mild dose of sarcasm will be pleased.

Because the Wee Turtles are, and sound exactly like, four guys having a good time with some instruments, listening to This Land is Your Land is a very relaxing experience. You never feel as if you're in the presence of a bunch of temperamental guitar gods or fragile production wunderkinds. These are regular guys. Self-important artists don't usually write songs called "Playtime at Castle Greyskull" -- or, if they do, they're 14-minute sprawls of art-rock wankery rather than three-minute low-fi rave-ups with guest vocals from Skeletor. Nor do they aim rants at school sports; "Shin Splints (the Cross Country Song)," with its "you gotta run" chorus, bemoans a non-existent coaching staff. Art rock it ain't, even if the air-raid sirens on "Why the Bombers?" make a political statement of sorts.

This Land is Your Land is the sort of album you play at a first-rate mid-spring booze-up in a big old rented house that's just on the edge of a laid-back college campus. It's probably best heard while sprawled on someone's front lawn in a mild drink-induced haze. Of course, too many of us don't get to hear albums in that context any more. If you're trapped in a world of meetings and overtime and teleconferences and "business casual" attire, This Land is Your Hand is the escape hatch you've been longing for.