From the very first opening bars of this album, there's a certain magic which defines Jeniferever's sound. After building twenty seconds of dreamy sonic ambience, a burst of urgent drumming cuts through the air, shortly followed by the singer's emotional and breathless whisper, "Dear Emily...". This one moment says more than many songs will ever manage to.

Beautifully mastered and stunningly performed, Swedish band Jeniferever's debut album is a melodic collection of ambient indie songs, somewhere near the terrain of Sigur Ros but less obscure more rock oriented.

Most of these songs are over six minutes in length, which gives you a good indication that we are talking about some pretty epic stuff here. It's slow building, slow tempo, relaxing, delicate music which focuses more on creating a overall band sound rather than individual parts. These guys are not afraid to take their time - and not afraid to allow the songs to breathe, which allows the listener to travel the emotional journey with them. Despite the length of the songs (11:07 in one instance), they rarely become self-indulgent or pretentious, and the wait is usually worth it. Holding back and then allowing a song to blossom in the right moment makes the impact much more effective.

For a Swedish band, the English lyrics are surprisingly good. There is only a slight hint of a foreign accent, and coming from a different culture has evidently given these guys an unique view on how to approach making music. There's not even a slight indication of trying to appeal to a mass audience here - the songs are given their own life, their own space, and their own will.

If there's one bad thing to be said about the album, it's the tendency for much of the sound, and thus many of the songs, to seemingly roll into one. The overall sound of the album is obviously intentional, however there's very little variety which gives us hardly any reprieve from its repetitive slow moving ambience. The one song which (assumedly) is designed to deliver relief is misplaced towards the end of the album. Magdeleno comes in at track eight, and replaces the singing with murky spoken words, failing to be anything but a low point and a waste of time.

The echo-ridden sound and dreamy soundscape does work a treat in several songs, however. From Across the Sea, Alvik, and A Ghost in the Corner of Your Eye are beautifully layered tapestries of sound, steeped in emotional lyrics and compelling melodies.

Unfortunately, having relatively similar songs and producing them all in a very similar way is inevitably going to lead to boredom, unless every one of the songs is of very high quality. While it's a beautiful album, trying a couple of different styles, tempos and production techniques would have probably made the listening experience a bit more interesting.