Weary-voiced Bill Callahan now performs free of his (Smog) moniker, offering the antithesis of everything associated with the "singer/songwriter" tag. Sure, guitars are ever-present, and rootsy arrangements abound, but Callahan's strange baritone drawl, darkly funny lyrics, and impressionistic instrumentation form a rare hybrid that avoids sentiment and cliché at every turn. Callahan bares his cynical, wizened persona today for a lunch-hour serenade at the Jay Pritzker Pavilion, in a Pitchfork Festival-curated installment of the Chicago Department of Cultural Affairs' Audible Architecture series.