What’s a nice boy like Jeff Klein doing on the Lower East Side, doling out bruised rock anthems instead of taking up a nice, steady dental practice?

Instead of being corrupted by cigarettes and whiskey, and transforming himself into one of the most accomplished purveyors of urban Americana, Klein could have maybe put down the guitar and pursued the rabbinical study. But after years of going it alone with critically acclaimed solo albums and working with fellow tarnished souls like Greg Dulli and Mark Lanegan, Klein is finally making up for whatever heartbreak he’s caused his family by revisiting the Holy Land of My Jerusalem—though as the possessive indicates, it’s still on his own terms.