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The tempos remain rigorously uniform across these 13 tracks, as though quickening the pace might change the genre or break the spell. It makes for a warmly moody, albeit strangely static album.
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Obadiah is the archetypal sleeper: Its burnished songs--an unlikely marriage of plainspoken folk and blue-eyed-soul--wash over you on a cursory listen, start to percolate the second time around, and finally burrow deep into your brain.
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She phrases intuitively, waiting on a word and then drawing it out, and turns good lyrics to oatmeal, adding strange new colors to vowels, making whole syllables vanish.
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In the moving disc closer "Mimi Song," she asks her listener to "tell them about me when I'm gone" and to "remember me." With an alluring album such as this one, that request shouldn't be hard to do.