While that doesn't necessarily make for lofty art, there's a charmingly eccentric eclecticism to Leroy as he merrily ping-pongs between Miles Davis-styled jazz-fusion ("Tomato Soup"), New Order '80s art-techno ("1983"), McCartney-ish '30s vaudeville ("Don't Say to Me It's Over") and plain old hooky pop ("My Best Friend"), with the exuberance of a kid let loose in a music store. Leroy articulates the sound in his mind primarily through cheesy keyboards, theremin and something simply called a "fun machine." Add an obscure new wave cover of Gruppo Sportivo's "Beep Beep Love" along with some loungy schlock and you've got a hopelessly diverse mess that works in spite -- or because of -- its "hey Ma, look at me" limitations.
That blithe exuberance keeps listeners engrossed in Leroy's unabashedly disposable basement pop. Sure, he's too self-consciously clever for his own good, but like most of us, he just wants to be loved.
The Incredible Moses Leroy plays Smith's Olde Bar Sat., July 28.