Band of Horses: Infinite Arms

Should you believe the buzz, album number three from South Carolina's Band of Horses is set to propel them into Americana's big league; curious, then, that it should also be their least distinctive effort yet. As with string-swept waltz "Factory", it's indisputably gorgeous in places, Ben Bridwell's lonesome reflections counterpointed by Laurel Canyon harmonies. But the rockier contours of their previous work are noticeable by their absence, and too often they lapse into a state of anodyne dreaminess that suggests a more conservative Fleet Foxes.