Barzin

Smooth slow-core without a trace of indie pomposity, Barzin lightly emits some attractively healing dreamy romantic pop ballads that are tinged with microscopic amounts of psychedelia. While he keeps within tradition, his spirit, intent and execution overrides normality, which is key to making this album different and mystical sounding — it begins, ends, creates questions, comforts, and pulls you in for yet another listen. It displays the beauty of sadness and vice-versa. His voice is the big draw, a sort of wispy apparition of sound, yet it possesses strength — and complementing it, yearning, calming pedal steel (provided here and there by Lewis Melville), swishy atmospheric drums and light tingles of guitar, which all act as the psychological reaction to his lyrics and aforementioned voice. This is an undeniably great album — quiet, gentle and balanced, yet it engulfs the listener with a massive amount of positive radiation of sound, as if piped through the world's largest satellite dish ten feet away from you. It'll make the Geiger counter of good listening hit 11.