That blankety "anti-folk" tag says little about the music, but it should tell you whom a band hangs out with. This inventive little pop duo (UPennies Sara FitzSimmons and Dan Fishback) doesn't play Philly as often as it does N.Y.C.'s Sidewalk Café with other acoustic/humorous/socially conscious acts. It's our loss. Technically, this Sunday's gig at The Rotunda is a CD pre-release show; Cheese On Bread is selling a burn of Maybe Maybe Maybe Baby to raise funds for a properly packaged and mastered release. Purchasers of the CDR will receive the real deal when it's ready. So why wait? The full-length has all the would-be hits from last year's Four Slices demo: an asymmetric call-and-response tune called "Where the Fuck Are They?," a punky dance number titled "(You're Just a) Gucci Model" for which they apparently just shot a video and the heartwarming, silly body-image anthem, "Stepping Out of Ketosis." The new stuff stays true to form with the hand-clappy "The Kiss Song" and the rousing gender-identity romp "Biological Romance." The voices are high and soft, the melodies are warm and catchy. An impressive debut from a pair of unabashed romantics.--Patrick Rapa

Cheese On Bread plays The Q-Superpowers Show, Sun., Feb. 1, 7 p.m., free, with Gina Young, Shiragirl, Steph Furness and Soce the Elemental Wizard, The Rotunda, 4014 Walnut St., 215-573-3234, www.cheeseonbread.com.

On her 14th solo studio album, Educated Guess, Ani DiFranco has gone back to what made her so beloved: words and guitar. She might be trying to rekindle the devotion of erstwhile fans by scrapping her recent predilection for horns and overproduction, but instead makes us painfully aware that she said all the best stuff when she and we were 20. Ani's lost the growl, and what she's doing with her voice here -- a sort of ditzy whimper -- can only be meant to disguise the thin, silly lyrics ("Men are delicate/ origami creatures/ who need women to unfold them"). Most regretfully, instead of beating her guitar like a drum on the march to battle, she handles it gingerly, but without tenderness. Educated Guess doesn't say much, but it does tell us that Ani strayed from what she was good at too soon, tried to get back to the basics too late and now finds herself out of context though not so strange.--Nancy Armstrong

Throughout Old Street, zurna and duduk wail their reedy insistence: Armenia's tough times in the 20th century will never blot out five millennia of culture. The Cascade Folk Trio, though far from the homeland, stand their ground with originals sung in the ancient tongue and set to Armenian melodies. They are, however, creatures of the 21st century, and do find studio tampering irresistible. CFT's fascination with programming is not equal to the refinement of technique of the traditional players they use or their own vocals. Too often drum programs plod foursquare, all but eradicating the complex rhythms of the hand drums. Delicate arpeggios of the kanun fade behind frippery. By contrast, the best track is unaccompanied vocals, a distinctly Armenian lead underscored by perfect harmonies, angelically soft and arranged in a modern way that thoroughly complements the old song.--Mary Armstrong

Natalie Merchant's like that really good friend you had in high school who found religion and got boring, but, oh yes, you remember when she knew how to have fun. This double-disc collection ("most popular recordings" on one, rarities on the other) is a happy little reminder of Merchant's pre-solo, pre-boring era. Were those days to remember? Yeah, but you'll also need to reignite your old urge for polite, adolescent indignation to let a song like "What's the Matter Here?" or "Hey Jack Kerouac" get its hooks back into you. Forget how corny it all might be and you can bob your head to "Like the Weather" and "Candy Everybody Wants" and their loving cover of "Everyday Is Like Sunday." But skip the liner notes. Merchant's passive-aggressive self-aggrandizing -- "I rode everywhere in Depression-era cotton day dresses, flat shoes and cardigans." Ugh. Save it for your blog, Nads -- will only remind you how passé the past can be.--Patrick Rapa

While the title reeks of "novelty album," Larry Cordle is dead serious about giving the songs of late, great Southern rockers Lynyrd Skynyrd a bluegrass overhaul. With his super-tight band, Lonesome Standard Time, playing with glee, he pulls it off. (Of course this is not a miracle; the kind of Southern-fried rock Skynyrd was famous for is surely kissing cousins with the earthier, folksier -- but equally Southern -- sound of bluegrass.) The more obscure covers, like the blues-based "Tuesday's Gone," sound especially vibrant in fact, but there's a catch: You really have to dig Skynyrd's music in the first place to get into the dobro-mandolin-fiddle version. Otherwise, an achingly sincere, stripped-down bluegrass rendition of the anthemic "Free Bird," however decently sung by Cordle, is gonna bug you just much as Ronnie VanZant's achingly sincere, overblown original did.--Nicole Pensiero