Seeking an antidote for a hard-rock overdose? Something off the beaten path? A reason to smile? Lilting melodies and inventive lyrics? You’ll find all of the above on the Roches’ self-titled new album, which surely ranks among the year’s most charming debuts. Featuring crisp vocal harmonies and interplay and a perfect, understated production by—wouldya believe?—avant-gardist Robert Fripp, the set draws additional strength from the distinctiveness of its well-handled subject matter. In one of the best songs, for example, the protagonist deftly pleads for another shot at the waitressing job she’s come to appreciate. In another, the Roches introduce themselves, make you wish you knew them personally, and then sing, “We don’t give out our phone numbers.”