Eccentric Soul: The Big Mack Label
(Numero Group)

When you think of classic soul duos, certain names come to mind: Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell. Sam and Dave. Ashford and Simpson. Add two more to the list: Bob and Fred. That's right: This heretofore obscure pair turns in the finest song on Eccentric Soul, an idiosyncratic collection of material mined from the vaults of a long-defunct Detroit record label. The tune, 'I'll Be on My Way,' has a Drifters-like languor that sweeps you along in a Motowny reverie. You'll swear you've heard it before, but chances are you haven't.

'I'll Be on My Way' was a sort of flagship tune for the Big Mack label, a shoestring operation run by Ed 'Big Mack' McCoy in the '60s and '70s. But the song didn't define the label's sound, which on Eccentric Soul runs a wide gamut, from the spy jazz of L. Hollis and the Mackadoos to the garage rock of the Sleepwalkers to the nervy funk of Grand Prix and ?the compilation's charm, revealing a Detroit scene way more diverse and visceral than most Motown standards hint at. 'Big Mack' never hit it big commercially, but this collection ought to earn him and his recordings a spot on Detroit's musical map. -Keith Goetzman

THE ALBUM LEAF
Into the Blue Again
(Sub Pop)

On his fourth full-length release, Jimmy LaValle carves a lovely compromise between electronic and organic. Prominent strings and bell-like keyboard tones complement tracked percussion and artificial effects; the result is a poetic landscape that's earthy and distinctly warm, even as unnatural hums, whirrs, and strains mark it as otherworldly electronica. On 'Into the Sea,' the slow starter ticks its way through a reserved opening, only to break with a melody-driven resonant surge guaranteed to catch your heart off guard. Overall, this mellow album-recorded in a barn in Washington state and mixed in Iceland-is a crafty piece of harmonic introspection.? -Julie Hanus

JEFFREY FOUCAULT
Ghost Repeater
(Signature Sounds)

He's barely 30, recently married, and left his home state of Wisconsin for Massachusetts, but Jeffrey Foucault sounds like a grizzled old bachelor holed up in a one-room shack at the edge of an Iowa cornfield. With a few exceptions, his songs aren't sing-along tunes, but complicated meditations on love and loneliness. There are love songs on Ghost Repeater, but they have names like 'One for Sorrow.' The haunting texture of the album is largely thanks to producer and guitarist Bo Ramsey, who worked on Lucinda Williams' best collections, and to the weepy pedal steel of Son Volt's Eric Heywood. Taking a road trip this fall? Put this one on the playlist. -Joseph Hart