Sunny pop seems to be the last thing American music needs. Skinny dudes in cute t-shirts translating the jangle-pop of such acts as the Apples in Stereo and the bright melodies of bands like Of Montreal into bland pop rock for use on The O.C. and VH1 promos are a dime a dozen. Why, then, should I choose to highlight Steve Goldberg and the Arch Enemies' self-titled first album when 2007 saw so many illustrious releases?Between last year's Arcade Fire, Modest Mouse, Interpol and Radiohead releases, little albums like Steve Goldberg and the Arch Enemies' had nary a chance to shine through the clouds of praise that fogged up the blogosphere throughout 2007. Now it's time to revisit the light-hearted troubadour's first LP and, dare I say, "forgotten pop gem," which came out April 20.

What is perplexing about Goldberg is his unabashed love for Neutral Milk Hotel, which factors nowhere into his music. Visit Goldberg's Web site or Myspace page and you're sure to find a number of blog post titles and photo captions taken from the seminal 1990s rock band's lyrics. The album, however, skews much closer to the music of Neutral Milk Hotel labelmate and friend Robert Schneider, of Apples in Stereo. Goldberg's sweet melodies and "na-na-na" backing vocals evoke the Apples' recent albums, although with a less experimental sound. Goldberg's song "Artichokes" actually ends with a series of "sha-doos."

His voice, at once snide and earnest (but not too earnest-think Ben Gibbard circa The Postal Service rather than Taking Back Sunday), along with his inventive rhymes, hints at an attitude popularized by the Decemberists. I'll call it "cleverness," if only to avoid "lit-rock," a term applied by music journalists to virtually any band with glasses since the release of the Decemberists' 2005 album Picaresque. Suffice it to say that the song "February Third" has a lyric about index cards. The song, the second track on the album, is one of the best, in my opinion, although it is perhaps also the most Decemberist-flavored. It's no wonder then that the song has the harmonic minor flavor of many of Decemberist favorite the Smiths' dire ditties, but without the gloomy guitars and vocals of that influential British band.

"Dire" and "gloomy" are indeed poor descriptors for Steve Goldberg and the Arch Enemies. The band members even carry the cuteness and cleverness over (and a little too far, if you ask me) into their bios on their Web site, www.stevegoldbergmusic.com. Goldberg's bio reads, in part, "Wanted in seven countries for breaking the rules of counterpoint. Has been known to overdub at the slightest provocation. Should be considered disarming and dangerous."

The music, however, despite all this talk of influence and snarky Web material, is saved by Goldberg's engaging, clever lyrics and cute rhymes. (A favorite of bloggers comes from "Julia": "Julia, you've got a lovely uvula.") The varied instrumentation, such as the use of harpsichords and other less than common instruments, also keeps what could be sweet, flavorless, sunny pop interesting and fresh.

The second half of the album, which was also Goldberg's senior music project at Carnegie Mellon University, according to an article in the Pittsburg City Paper, is a little blander than the first half. The lyrics give way to platitudes like, "If you be my alibi, I'll sing you lullabies." All the yearning and earnestness in Goldberg's voice doesn't mix well with the few sour notes he lets loose in a couple of ballads toward the end of the album. However, the last track "Summer's Ending" marks a return to the kind of clever, airtight tunes that populate the beginning of the album. It's a classic album-ender, in the tradition of The Shins and The Decemberists: the lyrics tell a story as Goldberg sings sweetly over a soft layer of strings. The vocals and strings build into something more epic before ending at the 4:27 mark.

Given Goldberg's 2005 EP, How I Remember Them, and this LP with the Arch Enemies, it won't be a surprise to see Goldberg release a second or third album in the near future to much greater acclaim than this self-titled album. After downloading "Preston the Penguin" (off How I Remember Them) from an MP3 blog three or four years ago, I have always looked forward to news of any new Goldberg releases. The LP is certainly no disappointment and only presages greater things to come.