You can almost hear the years and languishing freedom that went into making David Kilgour's new solo release, A Feather in the Engine. Rangy acoustic and electric guitars yawn. Their melodies unfold with loose ease as the instrumental opening track sets the tone for what will be, start to finish, an eclectic listening experience.

Kilgour, who fronts New Zealand's the Clean, a cult favorite for more than two decades, admits that the songs on A Feather in the Engine represent his varied styles and interests. Via telephone from the practice space in Memphis where he and tourmate Lambchop are getting ready to kick off their North American tour, Kilgour tells me how recording the songs in his home studio influenced the new album.

"It's a collection of songs from the last four years, and it's the first one since the very early days of when I first began recording that I recorded at home. It's probably the most solo LP I've made so far I guess, because it is pretty much just me on the record, apart from a few other people."

The Clean may not be the most prolific producer of albums--four records over a 23-year existence is an almost comically compact catalog--but in terms of earning the respect of both critics and peers, the band leaves more industrious acts in the dust. And last year, when the Clean released Getaway on Merge Records (its first new record in seven years), the band found itself not only touring with, but opening for acts that stood in awe of the Clean, if not just calling the group an influence--the Apples in Stereo and Built to Spill among them. (The Clean's shambolic, jangly, lo-fi pop is compared to Pavement and Merge-founder Superchunk, as well as the Velvet Underground.)

Kilgour is charmingly modest when questioned about the ironic twist of events: "I don't see too much of that 'awe' thing, but generally it's a mutual admiration club by virtue of the fact that some of those bands--well, I'm just as much a fan of theirs as they are of mine. It's hard for me to gauge that sort of thing, really. But that's why I'm here: It's endearing, and it's nice that there's still interest here in the music, and that's what keeps bringing me back to America."

As to whether Kilgour's growing popularity in the U.S. as a result of his ties with Merge will demand that the Clean get on the stick, Kilgour is noncommittal. "The Clean is very much a part-time thing. If we happen to be together in the same town, we'll probably make music together. There's no plan at all with the Clean; it's like a haphazard thing that we just get together and do purely for enjoyment, and I think that it will always be that way. But I'm sure we'll record again, soon-ish."

What you have in your hands with A Feather in the Engine is a collection of songs that may, at first complete listening, sound like 13 songs of varying themes and styles. Upon another run-through, the collection finds a certain cohesiveness, a pervading warmness that bundles the songs neatly and suggestively. The songs roll into one another with purpose; the glimmery "Slippery Slide" is bright, and full of loping, cleverly nonsensical lyrics ("I'm never right/but I've been alright") that slide into the more melody-driven swell of "All the Rest." Dreamy instrumentals and near-instrumentals rise, fade, and are reprised later as songs, featuring infectiously catchy guitar lines that stand even more stunning among the chiming lead-ins. It's the kind of album that compels you to push "play" again as soon as it is finished; the kind of album that grows ever more vital with each listen.

Though Kilgour played nearly all of the parts on the album himself, he'll have Lambchop backing him when he takes the stage Wednesday night. After his set, Kilgour will return the favor by sitting in with Lambchop for the headlining slot.

"I'll play on some songs with Lambchop; I haven't had time to get my head 'round all of their songs, but I'll play on one or two. Some of the Lambchop people are backing me up and I've been rehearsing madly with them in the week I've been in Memphis. As far as doing both at the same time, it's been pretty hectic."

Kilgour first met Lambchop when the two bands toured with Yo La Tengo, but had been a fan since he heard Lambchop's How I Quit Smoking, which I love. "It was a treat to meet them," says Kilgour, his admiration discernible through the wire, "and now to become friends is kind of nice."