Can Hawaiian music and indie-rock mesh? Yo La Tengo posed this question a couple years ago with the gorgeous "Today is the Day," but kind of hedged it; in case 2003's alt-people weren't feeling the tropical flavor, the band released a "single version," free of anything remotely island-fied. It's just as well. Most remember that album as a bore, which is too bad. Hopefully, renowned Seattle producer (Aqueduct, Of Montreal) and musician (United State of Electronica) Jason Holstrom won't suffer the same fate.

Holstrom's proper solo debut, under the ukulele-minded Thieves of Kailua moniker, may not give rise to pondering anything deeper than whether or not "summer's here to stay," but its unforced blanket of click-clacks and ukulele plucks lets loose an airy freshness like an unplugged version of Manitoba's Up In Flames. The gorgeous Beach Boys harmonies that open the jaunty title theme and its jingle-sized reprise, "The Purist Tourist," prove that within every soundscaper lies a tunesmith, and halfway through the former, he even lays a beat under it, by way of some well-placed kiddie clapping.

"On The Waikiki" would make a dandy single if this kind of stuff received even satellite radio play, massaging the listener with his passive intonations about "soaking in the rays" and "whoa oh oh." It's like the world's laziest summer jam; it can't even bring itself to hit the two minute mark before taking a siesta, which in no way diminishes its status as Holstrom's recorded peak to date.

It helps that he thankfully chooses to blend, rather than isolate, his atmospheric and pop pursuits. Decorating his breezy tunes with whooos and tribal percussion rather than laptop claptrap, his simple racket resembles an Animal Collective that's had their knots untied and saved up for state-of-the-art larynx surgery. Holstrom can sing, though his low whisper stops just shy of a flat-out croon. He's not going to outserenade, oh, Sufjan Stevens anytime soon, but it's nice to hear a space-indie record with the hook appeal of Carl Newman that breathes while others choke under a wall of whoosh. The minor-key jungle-rhythm showcase "Return of the Tourist!" breaks up the sonic wantonness with some slippery twin-guitar histrionics lest your iPod get too comfortable and doze off.

The only thing working against the vibe is the possibility of a storyline beneath all the lush, oceanic sounds, as recurring titles about thieves and tourists suggest. The guy can't possibly expect the listener to follow something this casual word-for-word. The ambitions of opener "Crystal Green" and the Sgt. Pepper-goes-hula "Under Setting Sun" seem to end at the music. "Crystal" even resembles Tortoise a bit, with its swells of crashing cymbal, bells, and is-that-a-whip-cracking-or-a-cue-hitting-a-billiard-ball to underscore the tasteful falsetto chanting. And for once, when the artist exclaims "I'm falling in love!" in his best tiki-lounge castrato, it actually resembles the bliss of a remote-island honeymoon.

Doing for island sounds what Beirut's Gulag Orkestar did for Gypsy brass last year, The Thieves of Kailua may or may not garner the audience it deserves, but it'll be waiting patiently by the oceanside, Mai Tai in hand, melting in a deckchair until it does. Beats "Kokomo," anyway.