Oh, Glory. Oh, Wilderness.

In the past, Holopaw combined insular folk-rock with electronica elements. This time, they benefit from a more consistently band-centered sound, framing Orth’s tremulous vocals in expansive, mood-shifting arrangements. Snatches of dialogue, surreal reveries and muted prayers reoccur throughout these songs, whipsawing the listener between childlike whimsy and adult regret. Holopaw’s genteel melodies are grounded in a sinewy rhythm section that sometimes recalls Richard Thompson and Fairport Convention. Tracks like “The Lazy Matador” and “Little Stallion With a Glass Jar” benefit from shifting dynamics that add tension to their pastel-toned melodies. Orth’s densely woven musings take on a spiritual grandeur in “The Last Transmission (Honeybee).” The album’s loosely strung story line achieves transcendence (if not resolution) in “The Conductor and the Hobbyist (Avalanche).” Oh, Glory. Oh, Wilderness. can be approached a musical short-story collection, requiring a close listening at times. But it also can be enjoyed as evocative, sometimes challenging music with a rarified, otherworldly edge.