It would be easy to mistake Langhorne Slim for yet another neo-folkie with a song to sing if it were not for the shear exuberance of his performance style on When the Sun’s Gone Down. His strained, high, and always intense vocals provide the first clue that this guy isn’t another New England singer/songwriter on the make. He kicks off with the energetic, upbeat “In the Midnight,” a little ditty accompanied by a frantic drumbeat and a jaunty banjo. Slim’s also joined by a group of singers who add odds and ends that can loosely be described as “background vocals.” They shout and soar, creating yet another odd texture to these fun, offbeat songs. The acoustic arrangements remind one a bit of late-’60s folk-rock, the kind that groups like the Incredible String Band made in Britain. “Sisterhood” begins with an atmospheric organ before dropping into a banjo-guitar-bass and percussion setup that unrolls like a psychedelic Sunday afternoon. Even on a simple song like “I Ain’t Proud” Slim twists and turns and spits out each lyric like they really — honest to God — mean something. Some listeners, addicted to a more straightforward folk aesthetic, might find Slim a bit over the top. If folk is to have any future, however, artists will have to move in new, provocative ways like Slim does on When the Sun’s Gone Down. – Ronnie D. Lankford, Jr.