This is not the twangy pop that you find on a CMT marathon; no, Caitlin Rose is a 24-year-old with an acoustic guitar and a deep appreciation for early country sounds written long before she was born. With a voice like a winsome version of Rilo Kiley's Jenny Lewis, Rose mixes traditional country techniques a picked guitar here, a lazy Southern drawl there with alt-country flourishes to craft a sound that rests somewhere between indie folk and that classic 1950s Nashville sound. The album's best track is the boot-stomping "Shanghai Cigarettes," in which Rose likens quitting smoking to stubbing out a relationship. The melody, so light and sweet, fits perfectly with her analogy; Rose doesn't cry over her empty pack but tosses it away and moves on with her life.