Shawn Snyder

With his turnip hairdo and a voice that evokes an infusion of wanderlust and yearning, South Florida’s Shawn Snyder could be Adam Duritz’s forgotten sibling. The tangled emotions Duritz puts forth with Counting Crows share much common ground with Snyder’s introspective musings. Still, Snyder’s confessional style is clearly borne from his own heart-wrenched circumstance and a trajectory that’s taken him from the hallowed halls of Harvard to the West Coast and even as far as Australia. Since 2006, Snyder has crisscrossed the nation, hitting some 50 cities in 25 states.

Being the sensitive singer-songwriter, Snyder invites further comparisons on this, his second album. The ruminating acoustic blues of Jack Johnson and Ben Harper come to mind in “Plot Twist” and “Anonymous Love Song,” while the skittish yet playful melodies of John Mayer and Dave Matthews seem reflected in the kinetic strum of “Wendy” and “Déjà Vu.” Then, too, there’s the pensive gaze of the title track, which sounds surprisingly like Don McLean prepping for “American Pie.” Still, the ache and intensity that accompany these troubled narratives never seem misdirected. At their heart, they offer a passionate perspective that’s tattered yet compelling.