The mysterious family returns to the front porch/garage on 's engaging sophomore effort, . On , gave a swift kick in the rear, sounding like posing as a bunch of N.Y.U. film students (or vice versa). For their latest, the Nashville quartet raises a flag that's equal parts Confederate and Union Jack. Their success in the U.K. is understandable, as 's lazy drawl sounds like a cross between , and with a slight Jamaican accent, but it's their seamless and agreeable blend of -style , matched with a keen lyrical wit, that makes them fascinating to both sides of the pond. On the twenty-something barfly opener laments/celebrates the soulless dance of the one-night stand ("She's opened up just like she really knows me/I hate her face, but enjoy the company") like a true student of . It's a theme that runs rampant throughout , and whether it's set against a swamp-sick ( ) or emitted through a lonesome ), it resonates as clear and cool as the opening notes of a tune. ~ James Christopher Monger