Lauren Taylor lives up to expectations on her debut album entitled Almost Charming, if not surpassing them. Combining country and rock 'n' roll in the vein of Lucinda Williams, Patty Griffin and Ryan Adams, Taylor spins out a set of inviting indie alt. country tunes, ultimately staying true to the country greats. One of the most attractive aspects of Almost Charming is the sheer rawness of the recordings. Each track sounds like it was recorded in one take (and probably was), adding a heartfelt authenticity and modesty. Combining storytelling like that of "Dry County" - in which Taylor details driving across the Alabama border to Tupelo, Miss. to buy a case of beer - with some vintage Gram Parsons country/rock, expect yourself to be charmed.

Lauren Taylor and her bandmates would like us to think that they play country music. Almost Charming's nods to the genre are anything but subtle: slide guitar runs amok, every melody carries itself with a twanging lilt, and the cartoon Taylor on the album's cover belts out a line from the album's "Dry County" -- "I'm on the road to Tupelo to buy a case of beer." However, like Gram Parsons, Taylor's allegiances to confessional pop weigh in too strongly to let her music sit comfortably in a particular section of the record store.

Almost Charming feels very much like one person's vision; its break-ups and make-ups aren't tailored to resonate on a universal level, even when they're expressed in generalities. Whereas country music typically rejects the auteur in favor of the interpreter, Taylor is assuredly the former -- whether she fictionalizes her narratives or not, they're still undoubtedly hers. It's much easier then to think of her as a rock singer/songwriter who colors her songs with country overtones.

"Dry County"'s footloose treatment of Bible Belt anxiety most cunningly intertwines Taylor's country and pop personalities. It's a light, catchy song about crossing the county line to score some booze -- a journey its lyrics humorously portray as an archetypal Southern experience. It's the closest Taylor comes to writing a honky-tonk torch song, but it's also the furthest she strays from country's musical conventions: the bridge, with its spry melody and bouncy handclaps, feels more like a Cars song.

"Think of You" also presents Taylor and her bandmates as mature, complicated artists. It boasts the album's most memorable, instantly likable melody, accentuated by Taylor's strongest vocal performance. Here she doesn't play the cowgirl so much as the belle, swaying around within a spacious arrangement like Hope Sandoval with a drawl. The guitars also venture into dream-pop territory: a lap steel and a clean electric whisper into each other's ears and lock arms in the clouds. These seductive sonics provide a pleasingly ironic counterpoint to the lyrics' post-breakup smokescreen, suggesting the very memories that Taylor's persona attempts to block out.

Almost Charming's other five songs aren't as tightly wound or as vividly expressive, although "Bad Spell" and "Good Game" at least merit a little attention for the sheer prettiness of their vocal harmonies. "Gabriel" is a downright detour, all Dire Straitsy guitar tones and Hallmark clippings. However, while the album is a bit wobbly overall, Taylor's ability to mine multiple conventions to achieve her ends suggests that more songs like "Think of You" await.