In 2008, White Hinterland, performing moniker for songstress Casey Dienel, released a charming piano pop record, cheekily titled Phylactery Factory. During a moment where Feist had officially gone Apple commercial-huge, Phylactery's sound appeared in the Magic 8-Ball tastemaker churn as "Yes, this undoubtedly has to be huge too."  Turns out, the album got lost. It was weirder than it let on. Lyrics about buying motor boats matched with a penchant (and adeptness) for evoking Vince Guaraldi's Charlie Brown's Christmas. Plus it had the word "Phylactery" in its title. Cut to later that year and the Luniculaire EP, sung entirely in French, is released. It is an effortless throwback to the sex-with-shades-on cool of the finest Serge Gainsbourg, crossed with the buzz saw jazz of some lost Morricone noir. Unabashed homage, meticulously faithful and quietly unlike anything else being released. Not to mention a much darker left turn than one may have seen coming. Lastly (and before we get to the record at hand) a tour-only EP saw light, and it featured covers of both Arthur Russell and Justin Timberlake. And so here we are, at Kairos -- arguably one of the finest releases 2010 is likely to see. A bold assertion so early on, but its instant universality is a rare find in an already saturated year. Everything mentioned about Casey Dienel's discography prior lends very little (read: almost nothing) to Kairos' thick, gorgeous heat wave of a record.