Jacob Morris is an unassuming man, content with jamming with his friends (John Fernandes, Madeline) and leaving it at that. His promo photo looks like his manager dragged him outside of his house after a nap and begged him for a photo. There was even a period of confusion as to whether his project was entitled Moths or Jacob Morris. In fact, it's still not entirely clear.

This easygoing attitude flows right into the rustic, warm Americana musings of Moths. Acoustic guitar riffs provide the foundation for horn and string flourishes, with twangy slide guitars sprinkled alongside, all working towards a rich and pillowy atmosphere that never feels overworked.

Morris does leave himself open to a question that knocks on the door of every acoustic singer-songwriter: “What makes you any different?” While Moths is every bit as pleasant as the impressionistic idyll on the album cover, it does feel a bit reluctant to expose the river of emotion that bubbles at the surface, a shortcoming most evident in the album’s quieter, darker moments. But overall, the album sparkles like a fresh spring day, a sepia-tinted walk through a lush forest, sunlight peering through the canopy.