HOLLYWOOD -- There is a girl in a tank top who appears in the lyrics of "Smoke Detector," a backbeat-powered, beach party-worthy romp on Under the Blacklight, the fourth album by the much-loved Los Angeles band Rilo Kiley. She is not wearing a bra, and she cries "Danger!" when she hits the dance floor. Jenny Lewis created this character. But she can't completely relate.
"It's not me. I always wear a bra," said Lewis, the band's singer and principal songwriter.
"That girl without a bra is a real person," Jason Boesel, Rilo Kiley's drummer, quickly chimed in. "We saw her dancing at a Paul Frank party on the grounds of Wild Rivers, the water park. She didn't seem cool. But at that moment, she was hot."
Sitting in the parking lot of the Swinghouse studios in central Hollywood, chatting before a rehearsal for their coming European tour, the members of Rilo Kiley seem a bit conversationally frayed.
They're dictionary-definition critics' darlings: four smart, stylish musical adepts whose elegant pop has a vintage sheen and the most thoughtful lyrics this side of a Stephen Sondheim musical. Under the Blacklight, which was released Tuesday, has earned raves in the big glossy music magazines and is No. 2 (behind M.I.A.'s Kala) on the charts at the leading indie Web retailer Insound.
Still, this music takes a bit of explaining, as it veers from the bookish bohemian vibe that helped Rilo Kiley become darlings.
"It has a different tone in a lot of ways," said Lewis. "I don't know if it lacks the feeling from our previous records, but it was an attempt on my part to create something different. The sound on this record is as important as the lyrics, if not more important."
Rilo Kiley won the fussy hearts of indie rock eggheads with three albums' worth of extremely pleasant and progressively more polished folk-pop. Often standing just outside the stories she wove, Lewis dissected the romantic foibles of chronic overthinkers. The music was intellectually driven, too.
As satisfying as this sound was for lovers of sophisticated songcraft, it became limiting. Lewis found herself writing differently, exploring how a strong groove or rousing arrangement can reshape the meaning of words. She also became more interested in music's erotic pull. Perhaps tired of constantly being labeled an "indie pinup," she came up with songs like "Smoke Detector" and "Close Call," which demanded more openly sensual performances even as they explored the costs of putting one's sexuality on the line.
