There’s nothing the indie rock blogosphere loves more than a “supergroup.” Supergroups are composed of prominent members of even more prominent bands (or occasionally solo artists), so not only are they generally pretty decent, but more importantly to dyed-in-the-wool hipsters, you can name drop like crazy:

Hipster: Hey baby, check out this new Wolf Legs record. It’s got vocals by Colin Meloy of The Decemberists, the bassist is Kim Deal (Pixies, The Breeders), Stephen Malkmus plays guitar (Pavement, The Jicks), and I hear Jesus makes a cameo on the washboard.Hipsterette: Wow… wanna make out?

That said, this isn’t Hampshire/Mt. Holyoke/Brown (j/k!), most of us are proud not to be hipsters, and as a result, we tend to hope that a supergroup actually produces good music, rather than just opportunities for racking up hipster points.Enter She & Him.

As the blogosphere legend goes, Girl (Zooey Deschanel, former indie film “It” girl) met Boy (M. Ward, perpetual indie music “It” boy) on the set of a movie. Deschanel confessed that she had been writing songs in secret for years, Ward offered his musical expertise, and nine months later (… maybe), out came an unabashedly sweet and honest album-baby named Volume One.

The first two tracks, original songs by Deschanel (the album also features a few covers that are hit-or-miss), might as well be an album all by themselves (it would easily trounce most other releases thus far this year). “Sentimental Heart” and “Why Do You Let Me Stay Here?” are not groundbreaking. Their instrumentation is simple, their chord progressions are well worn, their lyrics are nothing new, but who cares? These songs evoke the image of Deschanel alone in her room writing these songs in her diary, and because she never intended to record or release them, they have an openness and lack of artifice that is rarely found in pop (or any) music anymore.

The album is not without its faults — for every time I’ve listened to the first two tracks on repeat, I’ve also skipped the weak “This Is Not a Test” and “I Thought I Saw Your Face Today.” There’s something appealing about the cover of “You’ve Really Got a Hold On Me,” but moreso in the character Deschanel creates (the perfect girl, inexplicably sad) than the music itself.

And therein lies the true allure of She & Him. In a world where the best pop music is written by teams of Grammy winning middle aged men who are more likely to be suffering from erectile dysfunction than puppy love and belted out by American Idol winners*, She & Him’s debut carries refreshing authenticity and, even more importantly, strikes a lonely but much-welcomed blow for quality in actress to indie music crossovers (I’m looking at you, Scarlett Johannson).

* This does not imply that I do not love Kelly Clarkson.

Moving on. As I said above, the new releases this year so far have been so weak that an album composed of just two She & Him songs would beat them. As a result — perhaps to fill the void, or maybe just in a wonderful coincidence of money-grabbing on the parts of the record companies — pretty much every great indie album of the past ten years (slight overstatement) is being re-released, remastered, repackaged, and re-made-money-on. Normally I would turn my nose up at this, if not for the fact that I really do believe that several of these albums deserve the pomp of a re-release just so more people will listen to them.

Air’s 1998 album Moon Safari, remastered and re-released on April 15, is probably absolutely the best makeout album ever made. That’s right — just pop this baby in your stereo and you will probably absolutely get to first base. Best known for the single “Sexy Boy” (c.f. the party where Julia Stiles gets drunk in Ten Things I Hate About You), there is not much to say about this album besides its merits as a soundtrack to baby making. The best line of a music review I’ve ever read comes from the Pitchfork (www.pitchforkmedia.com) review of Safari, so I’ll quote it here:

Thanks to albums like Moon Safari, international stereotypes of Frenchmen as nothing more than muss-haired playboys stroking a woman with one hand and an analog synth with the other are forever reinforced.

If the last 10 years of the consistent awesomeness of Air have somehow passed you by, now would be a good time to start catching up.