In its lesser moments, Long Way From Home is hangover music-it bares no rough edges, hardly deviating from a warm simmer. Bluesy slide guitar work sometimes shades over into Santana-like finger-meandering, and vocalist Anji Bee's layered voice paints bright glaze over already dreamy arrangements. So enveloping and warm are these ten space-folk ditties, in fact, that even the slightest tweaks provoke drastic results: the electric organ-tinged "This Truth" is one such standout, latching on to a catchier-than-usual rhythm and barely jingling tambourines. Elsewhere, harmonica hazes and reverb-soaked acoustic guitar from multi-instumentalist Ryan Lum dominate the mix.

An echo-heavy country shoegazer palette gets a workout (as the band's too-turbulent name suggests), but a few of the darker or Anglophilic elements are left on the drawing board-these gestures are passed over in favor of sheer willful Americana, though a distinctly melancholic type. It's as though the glancing disaffection of 80s and 90s dream-poppers has been filtered through an AM radio, a mutation that works by dint of sounding completely natural on an evolutionary view. Still, it's hard to get to excited about what consistently feels like no more than well-woven gauze, unless that's exactly what you need to wrap your throbbing head in.