The former Beulah frontman’s solo debut is hardly a one-man show. More than two dozen musicians (including old bandmates) join in, creating an ever-changing backdrop for tales from Kurosky’s family history. Tentative marimba gives way to klezmer clarinets as a lost World War II pilot hides in a sewer. A collage of atonal oboes fills the bridge while a lonely housewife plans her escape. Unbound by a verse-chorus-verse format, the songs meander unpredictably, like a milder Of Montreal, with polymorphous sex replaced by God and health problems.