In the wake of Elliott Smith's passing, the role of California troubadour remains sadly open. Let this stand as a nomination. Combining an unnervingly wise voice with rich piano melodics that border on Bacharachian, Swift weds '60s British acoustic pop to modern indie disaffection.

We realize that you've never heard of Richard Swift. We here at Secretly Canadian will change that. In fact, Richard Swift will consume your life. "The Collection Vol. 1" is a great place to start. "The Novelist" - Swift's highly acclaimed, succinct, eight song, nineteen minute and thirty-eight second-long, audiophile archivist experiment - immediately ushers the listener deep into the recesses of Swift's creative core for a kaleidoscopic trip aboard an intergalactic vaudevillian steamship with a speakeasy code-word. Yet, "The Novelist" is only one small manifestation of Swift's entire musical manifesto and only one-half of this double-disc set. "Walking Without Effort" - the second disc in the two-disc set - is the first, and perhaps most deceptively complex, yet decisively understated, Swift release to date. A slight step eastward from the eclectic musings of "The Novelist", "Walking Without Effort" intentionally paints another image, and baptizes believers born-again into Swift's unique brand of sonic schizophrenia. Gramophones are replaced by 8-tracks and Persian rugs are covered with shag, as Swift nods to the early 70's solo efforts of McCartney and Harrison, while waving to Burt Bacharach and Van Dyke Parks. They're just passersby as he drives down main street in a Rolls Royce Silver Shadow. Don't be scared, be excited that Swift intends on writing and releasing music until the day he dies and intends to never make the same record twice... not even on a double-disc.