Here's an album that epitomises why it's difficult to classify albums according to genre today. It's something that can't be categorised by a genre name that already exists, so you have to invent something. Maybe "psychedelic indie folk" would work. Or perhaps "baroque-rock". Whatever it is, it's a surprisingly listenable album that not only goes against the grain of what's popular at the moment, but also manages to sound utterly unique.

The closest approximation that I can come to of the sound of Espers is that it sounds like the soundtrack of a drug-inspired movie from the 60s set in medieval times. Chimes, finger cymbals, harmonica, and of course an autoharp all conspire to create a sound that re-creates an idealised medieval ambience, filtered through the multicoloured lens of psychedelia and early 21st century indie rock.

Greg Weeks, the brains behind this record, has sometimes been held back from making truly great records, by his intense fondness for drone. However, he's balanced out here by Meg Baird and Brooke Stetinsons, who stop the music from becoming too esoteric and experimental, and keep things melody-driven.

The album starts out with Flowery Moontide, which as the title suggests, sounds like something straight from the hippie era, played by flower children without the faintest trace of irony. The slow acoustic Meadow begins to bring a trace of darkness into the record, and this is continued on Riding, which is otherwise the most accessible and pop-oriented song here. Without a doubt though, the masterpiece of the album is the fifth track, Hearts and Daggers. The track, which is nearly eight minutes long, recreates a particularly British baroque noise, with just enough fuzz and melody to keep things interesting. It sets the tone for the whole album, functioning as the centrepiece that all the other songs revolve around.

Some problems include the fact that later tracks don't have the focus of the first half of the album, although they're still decent enough in their own right. A more serious problem is wondering what sort of audience this record will find. Obviously, it deserves to be heard, since it verges on perfection in some places, but who will appreciate such an oblique and unusual set of compositions?

The fact that it doesn't have wide appeal does work against it, and has to be taken into account when determining how worthy this album is. However, for people who make themselves receptive to Weeks' trippy, haunted musical world, you'll find a hidden little gem that provides a refreshing change from the musical trends currently doing the rounds.