A little wit goes a long way in folk music, but more goes even further. Southpaw Jones understands. Austinites have been laughing with Jones' smart, funny songs each Wednesday at Cafe Mundi, enjoying his juxtapositions of the wry and the moving. They have good taste — "Bedroom Demos" is the most nakedly enjoyable folk album Austin has produced this year. Over spare, occasional drum-machine rhythms and guitar, Jones muses on the cons of uncontrollable "X-Ray Vision," using the power as a metaphor for the constant mental wheel-turning with which artists make art: "I long to look at your skin/ I'm tired of worshiping what's within" and "I'd rather see wrinkles than another lost soul." But he can close with, "There's a bone in your fried fish/I'd leave that bite there," and pull it off. Elsewhere, he puts in a good word for politically progressive Grandmas, spins odes to a legendary Bruce and "Good Enough" love and discusses being the personal assistant to a sniper ("He taught me chess./ I won't confess/ and I won't rat him out if it comes to that"). Some critics have compared his tunes to They Might Be Giants, and Jones' vocal similarities to that band's John Linnell don't help, but his songs never come off as nerd-goofy as the Giants'. One day, Jones' brain may sit on the same shelf with country-folk wits such as Shel Silverstein, Uncle Dave Macon or Billy Bragg. With luck, there won't be "zero demand" for this dude that much longer.