The very start of makes it clear that things have changed for Welsh singer/songwriter , aka . Previous albums were driven by scratchy guitars that danced around the vocals like wired little imps. The title track kicks off with a thumping piano, then the lush horns, guitars, and backing vocals come in to surround his plaintive vocals in a comforting embrace. It's a change that plays out through the rest of the album as , longtime collaborator (who occupies the producer's chair), and a top-notch band plumb deep emotional depths, build impressively rich arrangements, and deliver a record that's a big leap forward. Not that earlier albums are deficient in any way; they're solid and sometimes quite thrilling examples of bouncy, itchy post-punk songcraft. This is just something bigger and more moving. It's obvious that has dealt with some suffering and loss since his last record -- the lyrical content revolves around death and uncertainty -- but he doesn't wallow in it. There's just enough calming reserve to allow for the feelings to breathe. It's the same with the arrangements and music. The exchange of guitars for piano, the fuller arrangements, and echoing harmony vocals manage to make the record feel more intimate even as it takes up more space sonically. It helps, too, that along with the jumpy, bumpy songs that have some rock & roll nerve to them -- like the insistent "Plastic Man," which sounds similar to what might sound like if they were sad and clad in corduroy instead of feathers -- and the cold-to-the-touch night-drive songs one might expect if they were familiar with ("Like You Do"), this time out there are some brilliantly constructed twists. and crew prove very adept at both middle-of-the-night ballads ("Mostly," "Like You Do") and cosmic cowboy laments ("I Need Him"). On the latter, his soaring falsetto cracks and flutters as the pedal steel sings in sympathy; on the former, the band layer in enough subtle tricks and underplayed sweetness that can spill his guts without feeling the need to overemote to get the feeling across. To that end, the record's breakout star isn't one of the rockers; instead, it's the ballad "Suppression Street." The song is a perfect blend of sound and feeling that matches one of ' most heartrending lyrics and vocals with fluttering saxes, vocoder-treated backing vocals, twinkling keyboard fills, and a melody that is both heavy and uplifting. It's emblematic of the rest of in that it makes the listener feel both warmly good and tearfully bad at the same time. That's a satisfying dichotomy and one that's hard to pull off. With and his band's help, has done it, and in the process he's made the best record to date. ~ Tim Sendra