A solo project by Noah Hall, the frontman for the minor indie outfit Easterly, Whiskey Priest's Hungry is an album's worth of songs waiting to be licensed for commercials for hip high-end consumer products and the climatic scenes of sudsy hospital dramas. This is not the cynical dismissal that description might at first appear to be, however: many worthy artists, from Feist to new Israeli chanteuse Yael Naim, owe their careers to high-profile exposure like that, which is to the modern-day musical marketplace what free-form FM radio was in the late '60s and MTV was in the early '80s. The sound of Hungry, whether Hall consciously meant for it to be or not, is dead-on perfect for that format, all gentle and folkish acoustic guitars, occasionally backed with subtle strings and/or Postal Service style electronics (courtesy of producer Jeff Saltzmann) and topped with his winsome, boyish vocals. More importantly, the songwriting is overall quite strong: the immediately arresting opener "Here" has genuine hit single potential in the manner of a less mopey James Blunt or Five for Fighting. The album's press notes reference Donovan and Big Star (assumedly more Third/Sister Lovers than #1 Record/Radio City) as key touchstones, but Hungry is neither Devendra Banhart-style acid folk revivalism nor retro power pop: the sound and feel of this album is entirely contemporary even if the building blocks of the songs themselves are more timeless. There are occasional missteps — the over-earnest "Love and a Gun," with its John Lennon swipes in the chorus, is very close to awful, and we didn't need yet another ballad cover of "Sweet Child O' Mine" — but overall, Hungry shows remarkable potential.