Yes, that's Lou Barlow singing about kittens in no fewer than two songs. EMOH is a bit of a rebirth for Barlow, musically and lyrically, in its striking positivity. Forgoing the darker territory he mined in Sebadoh and Folk Implosion, Barlow's first record under his own name is an exceedingly hopeful, mature outing.

EMOH's songs revolve around Barlow and his acoustic guitar, although surprise electronics and drums occasionally smear the compositions. In "If I Could", a country strum provides the only propulsion until an insistent drum thump and breathy female backing vocal help him coax his subject, "love me tonight." "Home" is a gorgeous paean to second-guessing love, with aching lyrics about how "nothing good can come to someone pretending he's in love." Barlow's increased vocal confidence is a great aid, but the clincher is a thunderous backing beat, electronically distorted to sound like driving through heavy rain. It's the album's soaring emotional height.

Barlow filters his more upbeat sentiments though a worldly voice that gives credence to lines like "life has just begun" in "Monkey Begun". It sounds strange at first, coming from an artist who has already achieved much, but it makes sense -— he's earned it. A high-tuned instrument, possibly melodica, softly accentuates his harmonized vocals in a sort of warped church-folk combination.

Barlow bums out on "Morning's After Me" with a major-to-minor key vocal inversion that hits home. He's usually happier creating shuffling front-porch sing-alongs ("Holding Back the Year"), singing about his cat ("The Ballad of Daykitty") or, inexplicably, covering Ratt ("Round-n-round", and if you recognized it right away, that's sad). Even his most controversial song, "Mary", which responds to the idea of Immaculate Conception with "yeah, right", imagines Mary and her lover as kids sneaking off carelessly into the night.

It's hard for people to get excited about a record like this; the thought of a middle-aged white dude with an acoustic guitar makes many listeners recoil in boredom (unless dude's name happens to be Will Oldham). EMOH is a bit rambling, and could stand to lose a song or two so as to not detract from the its power, but considering Barlow's sometimes egregious prolificacy, these 14 songs are about as polished as he gets. It's a strong record that will probably be ignored for not being audacious.