Lou Rogai knows the virtues of making things small. The full-length debut of his band Lewis & Clarke is a whisper of an album, lovely without being precious, moody without being beleaguering. The bands only full-time member, Rogai is sheepish and articulate. Hes a mild lyrical eccentric The sky is mint green jealousy but he knows how not to crowd a song. A gentle guitar pick here, a light hit of percussion there; he knows words are his strength, and he delivers them with a breathy piquancy. Bathtime Blues is inordinately sad; Dead And Gone stings like a fresh smack. Bloody Coat, for all its severed-affair talk, refuses to mope. Instead, it coasts on a gentle lap steel that undergirds Rogai, giving him fortitude until he hits a drawn-out instrumental breakdown that cascades delicately into nothingness.