here’s the love people? Show me the love cause I can’t seem to find it in the mire of electronic-beatboy-laptops, gut-wrenching guitar wranglers or emotionally unstable female singer-songwriters out there. But wait! Just when all seemed hopeless, Mojave 3 come to the rescue and not only give the love, but illuminate the path for everyone.

Formed from the ashes of Slowdive in 1995, Mojave 3 have since provided us with three albums of joyously hazy, country-inflected music in the lineage of Nick Drake. Fourth offering Spoon and Rafter doesn’t stray from the template, but does take it into a fuller, richer territory. The territory being the moments right before you embark on an idea that you later realise was a massive mistake. Full of optimism to start, we return somewhat beaten, but also wiser and glad of the experience.

“Bluebird of Happiness” is a majestic track, nearly orchestral in its three-part execution of searching, finding and releasing. A piano stripped bare steers the lyrics of “Gotta find to a way to get home strong, gotta find a way back”, before the song arcs into a glittering guitar fanfare, pauses, returns, re-incorporates the original piano melody, falls almost silent to gather its thoughts, then lifts off again with a brighter but still simple riff while reprising the original lyric- this time sung with a calm assurance that only comes from distances travelled and journeys completed.

The rest of the tracks are strong, if a bit identikit. Don’t take that the wrong way. This is a gentle, winsome record with a resolute dedication to mood. And that mood is the feeling of sitting in the sun, with your biggest worry being the lunch menu. “Starlight #1” is an undulating, la-la-la-ing gem while “Writing to St. Peter”s drum rolls, cymbal shimmer and little winks of guitar create one gorgeous hug of a song. “Hard To Miss You” sees sparse bell and keyboards coil bittersweetly around the looping “Its hard to miss you” lyric, and “Between the Bars” is burnt alt-country with banjo, harmonica and twining male/female vocals.

Mojave 3 are kind of like the cherry on a sundae; you don’t really need it, but you’re certainly better off because it's there. It makes sense to compare this with other celestial serotonin-reuptake-inhibitor bands like Mercury Rev or Flaming Lips. But Mojave 3 do something those guys don’t: give their music space. The songs here are full of life, moving freely, focused without being bare and controlled without being uptight. And yes, the title is daft, but maybe the spoon is our everyday lives, and the rafter is where we dream of being. Perhaps that’s just grasping at straws. Or maybe it’s reaching for the stars.