Jason Lytle is a wily, byzantine man; herein we provide examples of his ways. Pro: Years back, with his now-defunct ethereal pop band Grandaddy, he proudly headlined a shoddily organized festival thrown by my college radio station, churning the 45-odd attendees into a wraithlike trance. Con: He once hung up on Harvilla. At least his solo album, May’s Yours Truly, the Commuter, is made of sweeter stuff: Carefully compact with electronics and strings, winsomely sung (the title of “FÃ¼rget It” is the least amusing part, even), he carries the weight of the superb Grandaddy, and then some. So he still comes out ahead in these parts . . . well, depending on who you ask.
Fri., July 10, 8 p.m., 2009