Figuring out which came first Real Estate of Ducktails doesn’t really make a difference. It shouldn’t change the way in which a body hears the music of either of those ensembles/performers. But it is interesting to come upon one only to discover the other at a later date and hear Matthew Mondanile’s guitar crop up in both. He’s not the new guitar wielding, rock saving star that the industry might need, but having crafted a style that’s his own goes a long way to explaining why both acts that he contributes to (or constitutes) are so consistent.

Led by Martin Courtney and joined by Etienne Pierre Duguay and Alex Bleeker in addition to Mondale, Real Estate is able to conjure up some long past due country/psych that’s escaped folks since the demise of the Beachwood Sparks. That California band had one foot in the farm yard, whereas these east coasters don’t, but the Byrds’ catalog probably isn’t more than a few feet away at anytime.

The Jersey nexus of culture doesn’t seem the most likely to birth a slow moving ensemble such as this one. But to refute any figuring of the state for a series of slums and smokestacks, Real Estate goes in on a spate of songs that instantly calls to mind not just those country-rock forbearers, but lazy days sitting around in a suburban basement working out some magical mixture of guitar noodling and tom-tom shuffling.

The soon to be Woodsist released, self titled disc collects ten tracks at just under forty minutes. And really, there’s not a wasted moment. While each offering is steadily related to the work that precedes it, Real Estate is able to craft songs with just enough subtle differences as to make the disc an needed inclusion on those year end lists that everyone’s preparing to unleash here in a few weeks.

The only thing that might keep this group from attaining its proper place in the hip-rock world is the fact that everything represented on this first long player is pretty staid stuff. “Suburban Dogs,” judging from its title at least, could have held some more aggressive approach. It doesn’t. And no one can fault the group for maintaining its singular vision or consistent level of quality. But a lot of this disc gets into similar territory as the Beach Boys work from the ‘70s (and not the cheesey stuff with too much keyboard, the good, slow rocking numbers).

Continuing on with its unmitigated devotion to sun-shiney pop melodies coupled with those dour vocals, “Green River” begins with more than just a minute of instrumental guitar strumming before adding in a slide guitar and some chintzy tambourine. It’s a brief derivation on Real Estate’s theme, but one that works. The track won’t do to ingratiate the group to listeners who want something a little ballsy, but it seems as if that time in underground music has passed again – even Thee Oh Sees broke out its acoustic guitars for their last full length.