The xx Inch Out of the Shadows  Enjoy the silence  As a wise
woman once observed, you know you've found somebody really
special "when you can just shut the fuck up for a minute and
comfortably share a silence."  For the British trio the xx,
silence—or at least the closest thing to silence as exists in
pop music that can fill large venues and win prestigious
awards—is golden. On the gorgeous and ghostly Coexist, the
band's recently released second album, voices whisper and coo
from around corners, solitary guitars reflect light then
disappear like icicles melting in the sun, and beats pitter-
patter furtively like a cat running down the stairs. When
something unexpected arrives, like the steel drums that ring out
in "Reunion," it almost feels like an air horn. It's music as
haiku instead of sonnet; Hemingway rather than Fitzgerald, with
meaning and emotion lurking beneath the surface. It seems eager
to get out of the way of itself.  That ethos carries over into
the band's public persona. They're polite but exce