Capsules

Julie Shields possesses one of the rarest traits in modern pop music — a voice that might accurately be described as pure and sweet. That’s not “pure” as in a Britney Spears-style virginal tease or “sweet” like the inhumanly perky wide-grinned vapidity of Whitney Houston’s “I Wanna Dance With Somebody.” Shields, the former Shallow singer and current Capsules cooer, releases a helium-filled lilt that glides like an overinflated pink balloon against her band’s cloud-free backdrops. Critics often likened Shallow to Mazzy Star, but that comparison drastically underestimates Star vocalist Hope Sandoval’s chilly depression and mercurial stage presence; next to Shields, Sandoval sounds like Courtney Love.

Not that the Capsules’ lyrics are all raindrops on roses. “Someday” could be a prom theme for dateless wonders; its meandering pace and self-pitying subject matter make it the perfect soundtrack for solo slow dancing. Similarly, every track on Reverser could provoke a dejected post-breakup slump into a soft chair in an empty room. Rock tunes peel out from the opening green light and speed to their destination; Capsules compositions drift slowly and subtly like lightly windblown leaves, making almost imperceptible progress until finally reaching their resting spots.

Combined with the timidity of Shields’ crystalline vocals, the absence of superfluous instrumentation makes Jason Shields’ bass lines and Kevin Trevino’s percussion sound massive. Trevino’s tasteful taps would disappear into the background of an even marginally cluttered song; on “Bee Keeping” and “I Don’t Know Much About Zero,” they’re as noticeable and necessary as a persistent knock at the door during a dangerously overextended bubble bath. But if the rhythm section might be able to save listeners from drowning in sudsy fluff, it’s still best not to engage in any concentration-intensive tasks or operate heavy machinery while under the influence of these dreamlike-haze-inducing Capsules.