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In this Indiana quartet's young, grizzled hearts, it's always "Spring Break 1899." They brawl like Johnny Cash's cellmates or dreamily swoon like Nick Drake, stomping saloon floorboards in 4/4 time as grand strings fade into high noon. But literate, wantonly nostalgic country rock is a tough sell these days. Red of Tooth and Claw, like 2006's grumpier In Bocca Al Lupo, runs low on contemporary touchstones or appeal. Keep this on your great-grandparents' Victrola, though, for a rainy afternoon of rootsy escapism.

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