Gorgeous, cynicism-free pop that wears its heart on its sleeve, on its pant leg, on every Avett-specked beard, it's even there on the cello and the banjo. Vocals that waver and quiver and hang too long on certain notes evoke sadness and euphoria in equal doses. Sure, the banjo is overshadowed by the piano, and the spazz-outs are kept to a minimum, but every note just seems perfect and, at the end of the day, do you really care who produced it? For the record, Rick Rubin comes up aces here, with each song garnished with an equal mix of punch and shine.
The songs here are so good they should have been spread across three albums. I am totally inside this record - beautiful, sentimental, soul-baring lyrics paired with unforgettable melodies. Ten years from now, I'm guessing this album will sound even better... and move up a spot in the rankings.