Moon Pix is a magical record - it's almost unadorned and often positively stark, but also one of the most idiosyncratically beautiful albums I've ever listened to. A lot of the time, it's little more than her and a guitar, but so rich and expressive is Marshall's voice and so involving her songs that one doesn't even notice; every extra texture that's added (the uneasy flute on "He Turns Down", say, or the muted thunder sounds on "Say") serves a precise tonal purpose.
The mood is sombre, even barren - on her version of the traditional song "Moonshiner", it's outright desolate - but, though the flow of the record is never broken or even interrupted, it's by no means monochromatic. Indeed, "Moonshiner" itself signals the beginning of a spectacular second-half run: "Moonshiner" itself is indelibly sad; it's followed by "You May Know Him", a warmly strummed tune, and one of the best on the album; and then the skyscrapingly clear-eyed and tender "Colors and the Kids", in which a simple piano figure repeats over and over with slight variations as Marshall sings one of her purest and most heart-tugging melodies...and after that, the pulsating, humming "Cross Bones Style" ("oh come, child, come rescue me/'cause you have seen some unbelievable things"). (And that's not even mentioning the symphonic "American Flag", which opens the album and is its single finest moment.)
Moon Pix is one of those albums that feels like it's out of time - its folk influences are clear, but they've been melded with something faintly unearthly to produce a record that defies description. To me, it feels like a gift.