“I was reeling,” says Wendy C. Ortiz regarding when she first found out that her junior high teacher had the hots for her. She was “over-fucking-whelmed” by encounters with Mr. Ivers, or as she later came to call him, Jeff. Ortiz’s work, Excavation: A Memoir, focuses on this scandalous, dangerous and at times alluring power-relation between her 13-year-old self and her English teacher at the time.

Ortiz begins the storyline where the illegal relationship first started, in the classroom within the city of Los Angeles, where the entire narrative takes place. Since the larger focus of the narrative lies on this relationship, a majority of the timeline which Ortiz recounts based off old journals and her memory, takes place in the 1980s (during her junior high and high school years). Yet, she skillfully manages to jump around, often jumping forward to the 2000s or even her present-day life, always managing to weave these separate periods of time together seamlessly. Themes of exploration of sexuality, writing as a form of escapism and unattainable love pervade the memoir that lets us into a young, daring girl’s mind as she pursues her first love, or who she thinks to be her first love at least.

Although the utterly secret – and illegal – relationship with her junior high English teacher Jeff Ivers was her utmost concern during her pre-teen and teen years, Wendy also dabbled with drugs, adventured with peers her own age and dealt with the consequences that come with having divorced parents. These are all elements of Ortiz’s expression as a novelist. In moments of rapture, lust and the like, what was there to turn to but writing? Wendy found herself emptying her mind and heart on paper relentlessly, even when she wasn’t suppose to, even her deepest secrets all had to be written down. This is an urge that many can certainly relate to, the urge Wendy feels to find a pen and paper in particular moments, when “the Sky is a rich hue of violet-blue-gorgeous and the pine needles wavered in the slight wind of the summer night.”

As Ortiz accurately depicts it, “One way to get out of my story was to get into another story.” To that end, this also captures the experience I had while reading this particular memoir. While there were several points I related to, I found myself having to set aside personal experiences that were inapplicable and empathize with the words on the page. An outpour of heartache is left to be deciphered throughout the memoir, such as when Ortiz expresses an instance in which she felt only one thing:

 My head throbbed with a mantra.

I hurt I hurt I hurt.

The descriptions of yearning for something unattainable, but at times seemingly attainable, will certainly resonate with romantics out there. The incessant longing for something that won’t let up; a feeling that won’t succumb to rational behavior or even reality at times. While Wendy is dragged along for years in what can only be a friendship, with sexual favors, she is unfairly offered a promissory note of a future filled with love, travel and potentially, marriage.

Wendy, and most all romantics, almost always recognize this tease of an idealization, a falsehood onto which they latch. Romantics inevitably continue to take on the exhausting task of having to “hold [oneself] upright with as much energy [as could be] mustered.” This memoir expresses such frustration and drainage of energy as portrayed by a young woman who is attempting to understand her emotions and true desires as a result of being in a power-relation that hinders her ability to move forward for most of her young life.

Ortiz comes away from the heartbreaking experience with valuable knowledge – especially valuable for any parent. Finding herself married and a mother of a child years later, she anticipates the need for this knowledge, rightly assuming early on that her own experiences will be helpful down the line with her own family.

Excavation: A Memoir can be purchased from the Portland-based literary press, Future Tense Books, from its website.

Chanel Brenner’s Vanilla Milk: A Memoir Told in Poems, is a tempered, delicate unravelling of what must have been, and still is, a relentless and heartbreaking experience. Brenner turns to poetry as an outlet to express her palette of emotions that suddenly struck her. Her eldest son, Riley, suffers an arteriovenous malformation brain hemorrhage at the age of six. Following the verses provided by Brenner, a grieving parent, allows for a better, but still distant depiction of the immense hardship. The unravelling of this sad story reveals how such a loss alters a family’s relationship with others, daily routines and other aspects of life.

Whether the incessant reminder is brought about as a result of a toy in a store that reminds the family of Riley or even a pizza delivery worker who asks where the young boy who always comes running is, there is no room for the hurt to cease, and really, how could it? When a child is lost despite parents’ protectiveness and love, the suffering is immeasurable, inarticulable even. Brenner writes, “When I think of all I did to protect my son, all I worried he could die from … all distractions from the actual, his destiny at rest in its recliner biding time, death in his head like a landmine waiting.” The memoir unfolds in an ordered timeline starting from the hospital room where the bad news is first received all the way to when Riley’s heart takes flight.

Throughout the memoir, not only are we offered the point of view of the mother, the author herself, but also a look into Desmond’s experience, Riley’s younger brother, who continually asks questions about Riley from a place of innocent curiosity. But even a three-year-old’s curiosity can catch a mother off-guard. Especially when the question is, “Who is Riley?” Young Desmond asks simple questions or makes simple statements like, “I’m not Riley; I’m Desmond” and surely is left wondering what is going on when his parents react in a shocked manner or have a difficult time explaining where his older brother went and why. On top of it all, by the end of the memoir, you turn to a section entitled “Family Photos” that only makes you more involved in this story. A series of absolutely endearing and heartbreaking photos are shared of the family and both of their boys at play.

Brenner’s drive to put her sorrow into a work of art has not gone unnoticed and surely finds its way onto some of the 2014 lists of prominent works. Straightforwardly, Brenner admits, “I can’t stop writing poems about my dead son. He’s why I started and I worry I won’t be able to stop.”

Her inability to stop producing honest, insightful poems about Riley certainly constructs a tribute or perhaps ode to her son. By letting us into her family’s life after the loss of their eldest son, Brenner offers a deeply personal involvement in her suffering and uncertainty as to how to take her love for two children and supply it to the one she still has.

The thinly cardboard-covered, pocket-sized lyric essay collection “Darkmouth Strikes Again” by Jay Ponteri centers its interest on multiple related, yet varying themes in its brief 31 pages. Themes of sorrow, shame, uncertainty, self-loathing, longing and suicide all lie waiting to be experienced in the unassuming, petite book. Due to its being a non-fiction, the references made regarding Ponteri’s wife and son makes it a rough read to say the least, but one worth enduring.

Ponteri is the director of Marylhurst University’s undergraduate creative writing program, and he exemplifies his strength of resonating with readers exceptionally well with “Darkmouth Strikes Again.” The lyric essay starts, “I operate on the understanding that anything I say, do, or think is the wrong thing to say, do, or think.” From the get go, we realize that we’re in for it.

The ongoing narration from a single viewpoint extends to a familiar and alarmingly precise look into the world of depression; it’s a look into how “being awake hurts.” The narrator hits on commonalities such as the inescapability of one’s bed on particular days and the pushing away of people surrounding you. Yet, it isn’t at all the hitting on these topics that is impressive, but the stylistic devices through which it is done. The personal affliction isn’t merely described based on daily events, but through its feeling and the way it presents itself. To point to one of several times where this becomes clear, Ponteri provides a detailed description of the shape of sorrow: “Is it like a spiral curling inside itself or a vortex drawing its contents to some unfathomable center or the sea moving in gentle, laving waves, or creeper waves, or destructive and debilitating waves, or perhaps sorrow is shaped like a ghost, always there, never there, shaped like a sob, a convulsion, a howl, a wet towel, or perhaps sorrow is shaped like a bowl holding only so much, closed at the bottom with nowhere to go, open at the top for pouring fourth, emptying, up-filling.”

This description ultimately leaves the reader, whether intimate with sadness or not, aware of sorrow’s overwhelmingness. Its overflowing nature exemplified through the simile of sorrow being a kind of bowl. This is also a point where Ponteri’s use of run-on sentences can be seen as a way of more honestly capturing an individual’s stream of consciousness, in all its sporadic and fast-paced glory, oftentimes leaving me losing my breath after a page or so because of the speed at which I want to follow the speaker’s thought process. Moreover, the constant interruptions of “or”s and offerings of new comparisons for sorrow expresses the writer’s indecisiveness or uncertainty. This is made abundantly clear by the end of the work in which a collective apology is offered on behalf of depressed people.

From a case of body shakes to a distanced, disordered appearance, the essay hits all fronts from a direct, firsthand perspective, constantly addressing a wife and son who unavoidably get tied up in the narrator’s misery. The work brings about a longing, a feeling of self-doubt that’s been there all along, which speaks to Ponteri’s strength as a writer.

Ponteri’s work is published by Future Tense Books, the Portland-based literary press. Future Tense publishes a variety of books that take on different styles of creative writing, which keeps things naturally interesting. To that end, Future Tense doesn’t accept submissions because it only publishes three or four books a year. “We know what we’re looking for and we know where and how to find it and we have a good healthy list of writers we want to work with already,” as stated on its website. It’s comforting knowing that a small publishing company is so particular about how and with whom it operates. On that note, Ponteri’s and other authors’ works can be purchased from Future Tense Books from its website.

It was three years ago when She & Him welcomed us into the holiday season with their album “A Very She & Him Christmas” and the timing of their latest record release, “Classics,” gives a similar welcome. She is Zooey Deschanel (vocals, piano) and Him is M. Ward (vocals, guitar, production). The duo is often cast in the genres of indie, folk and doo-wop, likely for their old-timey sound. With their love of songs from decades past, it makes sense that “Classics” is a cover album of 13 of their favorite classic songs.

Both musicians have an affectionate tone to their voices, radiating sincerity throughout most all of their tracks. It is as if they are a tag team serenading a sweetheart of theirs in each song. Inviting their loved one into a persuasive, compassionate and yet, ever so subtle slow dance. Rocking them back and forth until they render themselves helpless to the gentle vocals and supporting instrumentation.

There are few artists more suitable than Deschanel and Ward to take on the task of subduing an audience via a duet. The deep and slinky motion of Deschanel’s vocals fit Ward’s raspy and comforting voice seamlessly. It’s no wonder the two artists are constantly pestered about whether or not they are dating despite their admittance of being bandmates and close friends. Themes of love, fondness and longing have pervaded all of their works, but they are especially evident in this album. The track titles themselves are a dead giveaway: “This Girl’s In Love With You,” “Stay Awhile,” “Oh No, Not My Baby,” “Always You” and “We’ll Meet Again.”

Despite their strength as a duo, both artists also have tracks in which they are the sole vocalist. Deschanel takes on the vocals in the duo’s cover of “It’s Not For Me To Say,” a 1957 tune performed by Robert Allen and lyrics by Al Stillman. Their rendition of the tune is a sure fire way to swoon any admirer of classical music, considering the saxophone solo midway through the tune and outro that is dominated by orchestral instruments’ vibrato. She & Him successfully stays true to the original versions of these traditional tunes, while still bringing in a somewhat modern and sophisticated twist.

Meanwhile, Ward takes on a cover of the 1974 tune “She” by Charles Aznavour and once covered by Elvis Costello. Ward passionately sings the romantic ’70s lyrics, “She may be the face I can’t forget. The trace of pleasure or regret,” convincing us all the while of his devotion to whoever “she” may be, perhaps even leaving us wishing we are the “she” he is expressing his love for.

Upbeat and slow tempo tracks can all be found in “Classics” along with a number of different instruments working to support the ever so romantic and endearing duo. Ultimately, “Classics” is quite transparent in what is offers. Reminding us that these songs aren’t forgotten and still worthy of a listen.

Follow Ghoncheh Azadeh on Twitter @GhonchehAzadeh

Eugene’s Hult Center was fortunate enough to host American satirical author and humorist David Sedaris on Thursday, Nov. 20. Sedaris has published a number of best-selling works, from short story collections to articles for The New Yorker and is an active contributor for NPR’s This American Life. Having sold millions of copies of his books and toured internationally over the years, his talent speaks for itself. Yet, there is more that can be taken away from a live recital of his work; a greater sense of sincerity becomes evident.

Sedaris was slightly late to his performance at the Hult Center and was in a somewhat scattered condition. He buttoned up the top of his shirt and claimed, “I’m just happy to be alive” after having apparently just arrived in Eugene from Walla Walla, Washington, the most recent stop in his tour. And without much else to note on the matter, he quickly began reading a number of his essays, all of which were derived from different published works of his. Sedaris focused on a number of mundane topics from diets to beach houses, within which he impressively implemented mocking twists that livened up each story.

A number of theories that Sedaris has conjured up over the years were some of the first things that were presented to the audience. This included his theory that married couples who honeymoon in cold places are bound to be happier than those who honeymoon in warmer places. He went on to explain that somewhere like Alaska would clearly be a mutually agreed upon endeavor of sorts, whereas Hawaii offers nothing but sex with bad tan lines.

Sedaris predominantly played off humorous events and personality types derived from his personal life; from his own family members, his partner and individuals he encounters in everyday life. In a moment of self-deprecation, Sedaris went off on a tangent regarding how several reporters have described him in both ways he wouldn’t have guessed and also predictably drawing attention to his height of 5 foot 5 inches. In response to these journalists’ descriptions of his stature, he wittily said, “And then I thought, it’s not as if I sleep in a teacup.”

Continuing with the conversation about how journalists have portrayed him over the years, he discussed how they have focused excessively on his sexual orientation and partnership with Huge Hamrick. Again, the crowd was delighted by his bending of the situation into one where he is on top. “I don’t think of (my sexual orientation) as the cornerstone of what I am,” Sedaris said. “Given all my options, I think I prefer the rich guy.”

The one bone I have to pick actually is no fault of Sedaris’, but I feel obligated to give it short mention nonetheless. The Hult Center attempted to utilize a teleprompter in order for audience members seated in the balcony to be able to follow along. However, it turned out to be more of an annoyance than a help. Not only was the written form far behind from Sedaris’ dialogue in the present, but it often misquoted him as well. A young woman seated behind me in the balcony area commented, “This thing is so damn distracting,” referring to the horrid teleprompter. We’ll leave it at that.

The sincerity isn’t limited to Sedaris’ actual writing, but constantly reveals itself in his speech; as an inherent quality of his personality. This became quite clear when he stopped in the middle of his recital of a work to promote “This Is the Story of a Happy Marriage” by Ann Patchett as a book that he himself read and found to be of particular interest to aspiring writers.

“I would buy this book before I buy anything of mine,” he says, honestly. Moreover, Sedaris not only stuck around to sign books and answer questions one-on-one with those who attended his performance, but took time on stage to answer audience questions about his work, creative process and future plans.

The first day of Sedaris’ tour was Oct. 6 and apparently his first day off will be Nov. 21, a day after his performance in Eugene. Needless to say, he has more touring to do and has simply thrown around ideas for future works, but nothing is set in stone for the time being.

My personal introduction to Röyksopp was the summer before my freshman year of college. I happened upon a gem, their 2010 album Senior, when combing through a case of 50 plus CDs handed down to me by my high school soccer coach. The heavy pulse, continuous build-up and transitions in the track “The Alcoholic” hooked me. Thus, my first listen allowed me to sink into the clever, unusual world of Röyksopp.

The Norwegian production team of Svein Berge and Torbjørn Brundtland, known as Röyksopp, released their latest album on Nov. 1o. This album has been in the works since their last release of Senior back in 2010. The duo from Tromsø, Norway, formed in 1998, has been a powerhouse in terms of constant releases and innovation of sound ever since their first album, Melody AM, in 2001.

Regardless of strong audience responses, Berge and Torbjørn make clear that the first and foremost goal behind their music is to innovate and push their limits. Although known predominantly for their electronic emphasis, Röyksopp continuously experiments with various genres under the umbrella of electronic music. At times they are associated with house music, ambient or even trip-hop. According to Svein, the latest, extensive 17-track album “is not a dance album at all. This is home listening as far as we’re concerned. It’s headphones music.”

With The Inevitable End, the two producers focused on matching their vocalists to specific tracks that would rhythmically fit their range. They have pointed to the importance of voice-track matching on the overall takeaway of a song for a number of years, but have seemed to hone in on this ability with their most recent album. The number of strong vocalists that were matched to particular tracks is outstanding. Their variety of brilliant vocalists only greater emphasizes the production duo’s multifaceted nature. To that end, a new dimension is attributed to this compilation due to the deeper themes running through the lyrics in opposition to the often, more upbeat sounds.

“Rong,” the seventh track on The Inevitable End, clocking in at two minutes and 33 seconds is a clear demonstration of the deeper element implemented within this album. While you are carried with an upbeat tempo for the entirety of the tune, the lyrics repeat, menacingly, “What the fuck is wrong with you?” The female vocals are painted over the symphony of orchestral instruments that are introduced halfway into the tune, as if aiming to serenade or tease. The misleading production work coordinate with the soft vocals to ultimately subdue the listener.

On a separate note, it seems that the title, The Inevitable End, should be taken quite literally. While the duo hasn’t made definitively clear whether they are through with releasing full albums or not, they did offer the following statement: “We feel like this is a goodbye to the traditional album format. In our consecutive run of albums, we have been able to say what we want to say and do what we want to do with the LP. We’re not going to stop making music, but the album format as such, this is the last thing from us…”

Never fear, folks! Even if Röyksopp won’t be releasing this format of album again any time soon, they will surely make strides in some new creative feats and release collaborative projects along the way. After all, the power team has barely taken a moment away from producing in the past and they seem to remain as driven as ever.

Los Angeles-based actor and stand up comedian Chris D’elia, largely known for his appearances on Comedy Central, performed new material at McDonald’s Theater in downtown Eugene Sunday night. Both him and his opener Jason Collings supplied the audience with the laughter that was probably well needed before yet another tiresome school and work week.

D’elia, who started out his comedic career in laundromats and run-down bars, casually strides onto the stage and immediately makes his ability to anticipate and satirize audience reaction clear by pointing at cell phones in the crowd to be put away so his new material isn’t spread on social media. D’elia immediately wins over the crowd with his commenting on the weather in Eugene, exclaiming, “It’s cold as shit man! No! Don’t cheer for that. You open the door and are like no, fuck it! I don’t want any of it.”

However, the height of the act was when he reached the topics of over dramatic girls and sex, which he is known for mastering conversation about under a comedic light. D’elia puts on his stereotypical spacey girl voice, looks at the crowd, and says “I’ve literally been running around all day,” changes character and responds “No you fucking haven’t!” As if his point wasn’t made initially, he proceeds to run around the stage chanting “la la la la la!” to demonstrate what running around all day would literally be like. Again, striking a chord with the already engaged and satisfied crowd.

As far as I’m concerned, it’s all in the angle from which he approaches these topics. He successfully brings these topics to a line, dances around them for a bit, and then blatantly passes it into a realm of laughable exaggeration. It was always unclear where he was going with something simply based on his starting point, which in my opinion, is huge. This way, the joke comes in like a punch – unexpected and hard-hitting.

It’s often difficult to put your finger on what makes one comedian more well-received than another, but with D’elia, I think it’s the nuances that worked as a cherry on top to his already hilarious material. Minor additions such as his wild facial expressions, with unpredictable eyebrow movements and bug eyes, that would play up stories he would recite. Also, his physical mannerisms truly exemplified just how ridiculous some of his material was, only in the best possible way. Hands flailing above the head, chest puffed up and chin down when he was pretending to be Russian, and of course his long, lanky legs flapping open and closed again to complement his discussions of sex. There are many more nuances that I’m sure have slipped my mind, but the last and perhaps most significant one that made me exhaust myself of laughter was D’elia’s laughing at his own jokes. You could say he has a contagious laugh, but really, it’s more of a cackle, a “EH HEH HEH!” if you will, that was both terrifying and glorious simultaneously.

Whether he was laughing at his own jokes or spending fifteen minutes telling a story about an orange (not pink) shirt, D’elia’s new material was well taken by the crowd at McDonald’s. His strength as a comedian is likely due to his comfort on stage and with the audience. It was difficult to tell the difference between his improv and rehearsed subject matter and I was surprised one or two times when he revealed that he didn’t plan to talk about a certain topic because of its sheer hilarity and casualness of which it was brought about.

If you want more of D’elia, I recommend following D’elia on twitter @chrisdelia and checking out his new show on NBC called Undateable.

Follow Ghoncheh Azadeh on Twitter @GhonchehAzadeh

The crowd at Cozmic Pizza waited patiently for Mirah and Led to Sea to wrap up an extensive sound check at its show on Tuesday night. The five-piece ensemble making up Mirah’s band are perfectionists. Mirah steps off of the stage to hear the speaker’s projection, stands amongst the eager listeners and decides, “just a hair more of guitar.” Meanwhile, one of her band mates is going back and forth with the sound guy about the microphone levels. Its sound check alone was interesting to watch insofar as it projected a raw feel as you would watch them stop during songs to work through timing, entrances and tempo. It felt as though we were offered a direct insight on the running of its practices. And before leaving the stage, Mirah comedically asks, “You guys know this is a sound check, right?”

With that, Led to Sea, the endearing solo act violinist/violist Alex Guy, takes the stage to open the show. She plays through her entire set with her viola, utilizing the deep chords to complement her alto range vocals. The pizzicato of her G-string resonates as she sings, “When you told me not to worry / I worried anyway,” a line from a poem written by her friend, a fellow Seattleite. Guy’s soft, staccato-like singing often mirrored sounds produced by her instrument. Yet, this in no way means that she was merely trapped in a similar sounding muddle throughout her performance. Rather, her viola worked as her sidekick. You never knew when her bow would come up or down, at times bursting into long-bowed, passionate strides later fed back to listeners by her looping of them.

Led to Sea’s classical essence allowed an effortless transition between acts. It was immediately clear Mirah’s extensive sound check paid off, exemplified by the musicians’ synchronization. Mirah’s moxie added a comedic dimension to the show that the crowd appreciated. She would often humor us between songs with witty one-liners like, “So we did leave the mosh pit area open,” referring to the space in front of the stage. The drums, guitar, violin, keys and vocals quickly revealed the humor behind the latter statement as they created a rich, elegant sound, similar to that of the opener.

About midway through its set list, Mirah throws on a black ball cap that was apparently picked up at a gas station in Eugene. This costume alteration, as if strategically planned, signified a change in mood. Despite there being no moshing, the band pushed its predominantly classical sound to the wayside at times and revealed its louder, indie rock side as the drummer would pulse a “a-rik-a-tik-a-rik-a-tik” repeatedly, like nails steadily tapping on a table.

Being perfectly honest, the show as a whole left me with a longing for orchestral music, which I think goes to say, both acts possess an aged quality to them. This quality is obviously attributed to its instrumental abilities, but also to its overall sound. Cozmic Pizza enjoyed a dovetailing of performances by Led to Sea and Mirah, whom are now, I’m sure, on the radars of many individuals.

Brooklyn musician Mirah will be stopping off in Eugene to play at Cozmic Pizza on November 11 to promote her latest album Changing Light, which was released on May 13 of this year. Mirah, full name Mirah Yom Tov Zeitlyn, has been releasing full-length solo and collaborative projects since the late 1990s. Her debut record with K Records released in 2000, You Think It’s Like This but Really It’s Like This, alongside its whimsy title, was pleasantly received.

She presently has a total of five full-length released albums and a number of EPs (both solo and collaborative), but what is really impressive is her track history with longterm collaborative projects.

She has collaborated with artists like The Microphones, Tune-Yards, Thao and many more. This is no surprise given her indie rock, pop and acoustic sound that allows for natural blending with multimedia or electronically focused artists. While her natural voice immediately receives attention, it’s the subtle and sincere tone layering over it that keeps it unique. Yet, she is hardly afraid to step out of the genres with which she is most associated with to experiment with her sound. Given this versatility, it will be interesting to see how her set list for her November 11 show, here in Eugene, is compiled.

The orchestral instruments give her a bit more of an edge than she can provide with her vocals alone. In fact, the entire show will hold this orchestral element since both Mirah and her opener Led to Sea are known to take advantage of the often-neglected art. Led to Sea is Seattle–based violist/violinist L. Alex Guy, who is oftentimes joined on stage by percussionists and bassists in effort to create a more layered sound. She has traveled both U.S. and Europe in promotion of her music, which is a refreshing classical revival.

Anyone who swoons to the sound of a tuned cello, violin or any instrument in an orchestra really would be hard-pressed to not enjoy themselves at this show. When classical and contemporary music are brought together, the result is hardly ever disappointing. This persistent orchestration throughout this show is enough reason in itself to attend. In fact, I implore those who need a break from their daily routines or even just a regular break, to show up at Cozmic Pizza the night of Mirah and Led to Sea’s combined show.

Follow Ghoncheh Azadeh on Twitter @GhonchehAzadeh

English singer-songwriter Ben Howard hones in on his mellow folk sound with his second studio album I Forgot Where We Were, a ten-track release. Following the release of his debut album Every Kingdom, Howard’s sophomore album is merely the beginning to this 27-year-old’s career. Nonetheless, it produces an undoubtedly impassioned effect. With a newly self-assured voice, Howard doesn’t shy from sharing feelings of despair and emptiness. It is as if you have no choice but to be right there in the thick of his low spirits while listening.

While Howard doesn’t care to complicate his music with multiplex lyrics, he certainly strives to do so with the acoustic and percussion elements. To that end, he is known to play his guitar in atypical fashions when the songs permit, at times laying his guitar atop his lap and playing it percussively. The slow build-up that eventuates in quick finger picking of the guitar in “Rivers In Your Mouth” at about three minutes into the track exemplifies the importance of the guitar for Howard’s sound. Without it, perhaps Howard wouldn’t have such a well-known presence in the U.K., with two BRIT Awards in 2013 and a nomination for the Mercury Prize in 2012 for his first studio album.

Yet, the song that really did the trick was “Time Is Dancing.” The song brings you in with a steady drumbeat not unlike being tenderly invited out on the dance floor for a slow sway. Howard pronounces, “And I am finally coloring / Inside the lines that I live between,” in a loving tone as he describes his state of laughter as a result of “being fired up” about someone, which is evident as a result of his consistent repetition of the phrase “Oh you, oh you, oh you,” which is likely to resonate with anyone who has experienced deep, romantic feelings for another person.  It is one of the only tracks on the record that leave you in a warm state rather than a despondent one.

The record’s overall sound can be considered to be too contained at times. The closing songs “Conrad” and “All Is Now Harmed” feel tame and underwhelming due to the hushed tone of Howard’s voice and less prominent percussive factor. Depending on the listener, this simplicity of lyrics with the calming instrumentation may nonetheless be a respectable feat.

Follow Ghoncheh Azadeh on Twitter @GhonchehAzadeh