Joan Shelley

Joan Shelley

Like Nick Drake or Joni Mitchell, Joan Shelley the musician appears to have total mastery of her art; ‘Joan Shelley’ the album exploits that mastery with a grace all of its own.

Four albums in, Joan Shelley has refined her craft to pinpoint clarity, in the process creating her best record yet.

She is a tremendous talent, poised for a long and productive career in folk music, with a breakthrough into much bigger things very easy to envision.

The 11-track set is loose, yet never directionless, with melodies that are less stately, though no less comforting than those found on the album's predecessor -- Shelley's voice itself is a marvel of sonic palliation.

The fifth album from the Kentucky singer-songwriter is her most intimate record yet, bracing and dense, featuring subtle production touches from Jeff Tweedy.

Joan Shelley remains a largely satisfying record with some moments of true magic, despite not ostentatiously breaking any new ground.

If Nick Drake and Sandy Denny had had a kid, she may have grown up to be Joan Shelley, a Kentucky folkie whose exquisitely hushed fourth album sounds like a collection of the world's most downcast sea shanties.

There's really nowhere to hide on an album this pared back – it's both a strength and a weakness. On the album's more plaintive ballads, you're thankful for that restraint.