Summer Fiction is the new nom-de-rock for South Philly bedroom pop autuer Bill Ricchini who has recently returned from a five year hermitage of domesticity, home-improvement and crock pottery with a self-titled debut full of rumors and sighs and fallen lovers outlined in lipstick traces. Breezy, bright and eminently tuneful, Summer Fiction picks up where Ricchini’s previous releases — 2002’s Ordinary Time and 2005’s Tonight I Burn Brightly — left off. Lush with deftly-turned nods to Burt Bachrach, Brian Wilson and Ray Davies, Summer Fiction is pure pop for the kind of now people who sleep with copies of Village Green Preservation Society and Pet Sounds under their pillow in case of a fire. — JONATHAN VALANIA