One of the best parts of Blobscape is the quiet spaces between its songs. It's easy to read that comment the wrong way, so allow me to elaborate: when there are pauses -- be they the thin spaces within a song's movements, or the fat seconds between pieces -- you will find yourself wondering, "What's around the corner? What's next?"

While these songs have titles that suggest ersatz Radiohead songs ("Fake Mysterious Lisas") or Clarissa tracks ("Peanut Butter Faction"), they are pure, distilled mystery to me. I can sense the work involved in making them, but never comprehend a meaning. That's fine with me, as Blobscape opens up like very few records do these days. Turn it on at night, or after lunch, and you're given an entire array of available dreams upon which to float away.

Although part of my passion for this record -- nary a bracing moment in sight -- might put off other listeners, it's especially notable that the hushed intricacies of Farina's guitar playing never bore. I won't go so far as to say that I can recognize each of these songs from their first few chords, but they do stand apart, and seem to prove that much territory remains for musicians to explore, far away from breaking waves and sheltered from lightning.