Sean Scolnick's first significant career move was to ditch his name. As Langhorne Slim, his first major musical move is this year's self-titled album on Kemado. The 28-year-old Brooklyn troubadour has devoured as much '70s Stones decay as electrified Phil Ochs sincerity, and as much Jonathan Richman sui generis humor as Johnny Rotten hieratic declamations. And when he and his rock & roll medicine show break into choruses of "Hello, sunshine!" even indie pep-rally popsters will root for his erratic, manic, fiercely anti-ironic songs. Slim is a wordsmith, a trickster with puns and playful put-downs, but he's a rocker first, with his eye on all the bohemian wallflowers just waiting for a songwriter smart and open-hearted enough to get them to dance. And you'll dance too.