Even when his mid-'90s band Archers of Loaf was churning out jumpy and idiosyncratic Pavement-esque guitar pop, Eric Bachmann was developing a more nuanced approach to songwriting and composition.

Apart from his moody instrumental recordings, his long-running Crooked Fingers project became a far more refined outlet for his songs than the often immediate payoff of Archers of Loaf.

From there Bachmann's output tended toward melancholic Americana and richly produced songs of restlessness and aching, making his evolution a little harder to track as he moved through decades of sad-hearted music.

No Recover, Bachmann's fourth solo album released under his own name, shifts into a unique shade of darkness.

Even when held up to his self-titled album from two years earlier, the nine songs here are spare and far less exciting, even by Bachmann's low-key standards.

As with much of his work, his bristly, world-weary voice is at the center of these songs, revealing a sadness that feels more in focus on slow and haunting tracks like "Daylight" or the harmony-heavy title track.

Even when working alone, Bachmann's studio albums often had an open and lively sound.

No Recover sounds decidedly more solitary, with ambient electronics, oddly programmed electronic rhythms, and lonely acoustic instruments serving as the only backing for much of the album.

Bachmann is joined by guest vocalists on some tracks, such as the hopeful "Murmuration Song," but even these songs have an isolated, reclusive feel to them.

Themes of introspection, destruction, and mundane everyday life walk hand in hand throughout the album, but manage to somehow fit together in the odd ebb and flow of Bachmann's inner world.

"Boom and Shake" is a grizzly banjo song about the apocalypse and natural disasters in the end times, followed immediately by the gentle, dreamy instrumental "Yonah." The muffled weariness of adulthood wanders through several songs, too, with lyrics touching on parenthood, life in a sleepy tourist town and watching the world's cruelty play out in both faded love and corrupt politics.

While Bachmann has never shied away from heavy fare, No Recover feels like a more weathered and resigned expression of maturity.

The songs are often stormy and simmering, but the essence of No Recover seems to be searching for hope and meaning in times that feel both dull and desperate.

It's a powerful chapter in Bachmann's expansive discography, and while it might require a closer listen than some of his earlier material, the rewards are as fulfilling and slow burning as the songs themselves.