Listening to this six-song EP is like trying to walk with a bunch of hundred-pound weights tied to your back; the going is slow and heavy. The heaviness never approaches hard edged aggression, instead suggesting the weight of emotional baggage or a black raincloud. Saint Joan take their time letting these smoldering epics unfold, using guitar tones that mix folk finger-picking and the sparse reverb of a Low piece, painting huge pictures with minimal strokes. On top of it all, vocalist Ellen McGee's delicate voice uses all of the space between her low croon and her haunting falsetto.

Picking a standout song from One at Twilight is an exercise in futility. Each of the six tunes is so reserved and moody that their intros feel like waking up from a bad dream, only to find out that things are shittier now that you're awake. "Nightmare in E Minor" finds good use for a soaring violin melody: floating in and out of McGee's pessimistic musings, the strings live up to all of their gothic, noirish connotations. The drummer's job is an especially difficult one, as he never builds beyond a mild simmer but always holds the tension of an inevitable boil. On "Tigermoth", McGee sings with all the haunting soul of Denali's Maura Davis, but without the indie posturing, which is a good thing.

Perhaps One at Twilight could use at least one song that doesn't make you feel like you're on vicodin and the world is ending. We never want to condemn a band for finding what they do well and then doing it, but to start so low and stay there for half an hour is a cry for therapy.