It's hard to imagine a more perfect home for 's delicately challenging music than the label. True, the ethereal sound of and made her a pretty good fit for 's roster, but the unflinching, often disturbing honesty of her work -- and her equally unflinching commitment to it -- is much closer to the outlook of and the other artists he supports. As always, pairs warm, enveloping sonics with 's gently troubling way of questioning why things are the way they are. And, as always, rewards close listening and the time spent with it. 's previous album, , was an exploration of -- and a kiss-off to -- addictions, particularly alcohol. This time, she examines death in its various forms, whether it's the end of a life, a relationship, or an idea. is such an intimate, vulnerable-sounding artist that it's easy to assume that music isn't just her life, but her life is her music. ranges from clearly personal songs like the candle-lit which deals with the death of her cat , whom she immortalized on several songs throughout her career (and because she's such an intimate artist, knowing that is dead will no doubt sadden longtime fans), to the tribute which she handles just as sensitively as her autobiographical songs. Distance and absence are the subjects of two of 's most quintessentially songs: a sketch of loneliness that's even sadder because it's so matter of fact, and where distance is an emptiness inside as well as an escape. There are some notable differences from her previous albums, though. There's less of the wry humor usually allows to shine through once in a while; comes closest with the spooky singsong of which has such simple, almost childlike lyrics ("Love is a seed that wants to grow/Put it in your heart and let it go") that it sounds like the ruins of a or a long-abandoned song. This is also her least gauzy-sounding album since , with arrangements that focus mostly on piano and acoustic guitar. is a deeply surreal exception, however: the pretty haze of its verses gives way to choruses that sound like they're decaying -- one of 's oldest tricks, but still an effectively disorienting one. Despite these differences, is still a strong addition to her body of work. Her music remains perpetually, impossibly fragile, but like cobwebs that seem like they should blow away with the slightest breeze, is actually built to last for years. ~ Heather Phares