Canadian Christine Fellows has constructed an achingly sorrowful album that will haunt my dreams for some time. Surrounded by weeping strings, Fellows' poetic lyrics strike close to home as they describe newly empty places in the heart. Fellows sings in a rough alto reminiscent of Edie Brickell, but instead of surrounding herself with bohemian philosophy she dresses herself in dark folk. Scattered minor-key piano lines and quietly-plucked guitar add to the majestic space of the songs, while sparingly-used drumming serves to underscore the emotions rather than propel the songs. While other string-driven, near-gothic bands such as Rasputina come across with a spine-tingling creepiness, Fellows' darkness is reflective of personal sadness rather than Dracula-esque horror. A spoken word guest appearance by the Weakerthans' John Samson feels like a concerned friend stopping by to make sure that nothing drastic is about to happen. The album is not, however, a suicide note; it conveys the need to be alone with sorrow in an attempt to conquer it and move on. If sadness drives Fellows to create more music like 2 Little Birds, then as heartless as it may sound, I hope she doesn't move on too soon.