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Much like how you shouldn't judge a book by its cover, you shouldn't judge an indie rock group by its cryptic name. While it might be easy to assume any group that takes the moniker Murder by Death must be a run-of-the-mill metal band, the name actually comes from a quirky Neil Simon movie.

And instead of blood-soaked guitar riffs and sinister lyrics, the Bloomington, Ind., quartet opts for whiskey-driven cello solos and outlandish narratives.

Always a fan of the concept album, singer-guitarist Adam Turla describes the band's latest effort, Red of Tooth and Claw, in a press release as "Homer's Odyssey of revenge, only without the honorable character at the center." Taking cues from the less-than-honorable knaves the band has created in the past, Turla manages to come up with even more despicable characters and tales of drunken debauchery.

The album starts off with "Comin' Home," which is also their second single (following "Fuego!" from the eponymous online EP released earlier this year). At the very start, Turla snarls, "By the light of the moon/ I'm comin' home/ Howlin' all the way/ I'm comin' home." The entire song, and this line in particular, is one of several on the album that capitalizes on Turla's newfound ability to channel Johnny Cash and Tom Waits. After first revealing the deeper, grittier voice in small doses on 2006's In Bocca al Lupo, Turla now employs it frequently throughout Red of Tooth and Claw.

"Ball & Chain" follows and serves as a showcase of sorts for new drummer Dagan Thogerson, who succeeded original member Alex Schrodt last year. Though the band has toured with Thogerson since Schrodt left, Red of Tooth and Claw is the first full-length recorded with him. He has no trouble carrying his own weight, as he and cellist Sarah Balliet provide the bouncy cello-percussion backdrop for Turla's tortured musings about his lover - hence the title.

For those familiar with Murder by Death, it will come as no surprise that it only takes three songs before zombies are thrown into the mix. Naturally, Turla - never one to side with the undead - adopts the mantle of a zombie-hunting mercenary in one of the early verses of "Rum Brave:" "I heard tell of a place/ Where the dead walk tall and proud/ Where men like me were needed/ To thin the growing crowd."

Of course, not every song can be a winner. "The Black Spot," for example, is reminiscent of In Bocca al Lupo's "Dead Men and Sinners," in terms of seeming completely out of sync with the rest of the album. Whereas even Murder by Death's somber songs usually have a bit of a toe-tapping quality to them (see "I'm Afraid of Who's Afraid of Virginia Wolfe" for a past example or "A Second Opinion" for a more recent one), "The Black Spot" stretches a little more than three minutes and is comprised mostly of Turla slowly churning through a bland and repetitive chorus.

Happily, the album picks up immediately with the last two songs, so it doesn't end on a sour note at all. Amid a muted intro courtesy of bassist Matt Armstrong and another strong cello and percussion performance, Turla again sings about a grimy love affair. While Turla's lyrics aren't exactly Valentine's Day serenade material, it's tough to resist the sleazy scenarios they almost always produce. Lines such as "I met the girl in a juke joint on the fly/ Needed a friend the day my mother died/ Her place was hot, and it smelled of sin/ I guess when one life goes, another begins" probably won't help anybody get laid anytime soon, but they're a hell of a lot more fun to sing along to than most love songs.

The final track, "Spring Break 1899," has Turla returning to a persona he knows quite well: that of a booze-fueled ne'er-do-well with a penchant for cheap girls and eluding law enforcement. "There's a drained bourbon bottle layin' next to my head/ And the piss and the vomit are the sheets on my bed" perfectly complements an instrumental track that would sound completely normal during last call at any seedy, hole-in-the-wall bar.

And maybe that's the point. Sure, Murder by Death might have a few songs about alcoholic womanizing, but there are also plenty of other songs about slaying zombies, being an outlaw and other drunken adventures. Red of Tooth and Claw treads familiar territory, no doubt, but it does so in a way that keeps things fresh and demonstrative of the band's creative power.

fallopia@umd.edu

RATING: 4 STARS OUT OF 5

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