The Marlboro Chorus's EP Entangled is a light, bouncy collection of six ready-for-college-radio singles. This is not a condemnation however. Coming out of Davenport, Iowa (where?) the trio makes poppy, slightly indie songs that one can listen to with little effort. And sometimes, this is exactly what you want out of music. On the other hand, if you're willing to delve deeper, some pretty imaginative things are being said on this tiny gem.

The band is B. Patric (vocals, guitar, keys), "Rudie" Reyhons (drums, vocals) and Gary Heitman (bass, vocals), and the charm of their slightly off-key songs is undeniable. The paired down sound of the EP was achieved by the fact that the entire thing was recorded on an eight track. This might have been a choice of necessity, but it works effectively to show that these guys can carry their own musical weight without the use of tricky sound embellishments and manipulations. It's pure and simple in a particularly charming way.

"The New Republic" is a cross between The Cure's "In Between Days" guitar and the opening baseline of The Strokes' "When It Started," but the lyrics are far bolder than anything Robert Smith would dare put out there: "God bless America, let's fuck, c'mon..." Continuing the vibe of the recent wave of garage rock coming out of Detroit and New York, the title track "Entangled" is a straight forward power pop song about fumbling and lust in greener grass. Far more honest than anything I've ever heard on the subject, this song doesn't romanticize the urge to scratch that inconvenient itch, but it does recognize that sometimes, you just have to scratch anyway. Consequences be damned.

The oddest moment in the collection comes in the opening chords to "Song for L." It sounds for all the world like the opening for "Kiss Me" by Sixpence None the Richer. I was initially confused and put off by it, but happily, the song ends up not sounding anything like what I originally feared. It's actually an eloquent portrait of resentful nostalgia and adolescent ire told in a lilting, wistful melody. Sort of unexpected on my part. Trust me, you'd be short-changing your experience with The Marlboro Chorus if you don't read the lyrics.

All in all, this tiny collection of songs packs a decent punch that will grow on you if you give it a chance. Coming in at around 15 minutes running time, Entangled stands as a small monument to creativity and a testament to the stuff that can come from middle-American malaise.