Once a guitarist, singer/songwriter and occasional drummer for indie-pop bands The Softies and Tiger Trap, Rose Melberg uses her second solo album to branch off in a different direction with a lush and humble sound that is all her own.

The production is similar to a lot of current singer/songwriters: a prominent acoustic guitar center with light piano, violins and flutes, the movement being guided almost entirely by the voice and the melodies.

“Cast Away the Clouds” fits the mold just enough to be approached as pop music, but capitalizes on small variations in chords and melodies so it avoids blending in, and is never predictable. “Four Walls” represents just one of these types of tracks, dipping at the chorus to keep listeners on their toes, and then floating between verses to the tune of a flute as in a traditional folk song.

The subtle surprises are reflected in the lyrics as seen in “Irene,” which features a swinging waltz rhythm which Melberg contrasts with lyrics that narrate dejection and heartbreak. But even with these darker themes, the sound remains light and enchanting.

Throughout the album, she uses this tactic to pull a delightful little trick, establishing a sense of empathy with her pain but, as each track ends, creating a better, more optimistic mood.

These twists in Melberg’s style can make it a little difficult to latch onto the songs at first, but they contribute more to the album than detract from it.

The same cannot be said, unfortunately, for the vocal production. Melberg layers her voice on top of itself from beginning to end, opening the album by cradling listeners with her warm, breezy harmonies. But the soothing effect works its way to being overdone by the midpoint, and then eventually to soporific as the album nears its end.

There is some redemption with the uplifting “Your Tears,” followed by the closing track “Each New Day,” which features a refreshing piano instead of the now-exhausted sound of the guitar. Melberg delicately weaves her voice into the instrumentation, cleverly narrating the familiar story of an absent dream lover from the perspective of an insomniac. As the chorus kicks in, the song loses part of its beauty just because it resembles all that preceded it, but still holds echoes of potential.

So while the cloud has not been completely cast away, Melberg holds onto a silver lining, and produces an album worth at least enough listens to incite anticipation for what she’ll come out with next.

E-mail Puri at kpuri@media.ucla.edu.