There is power in simplicity and strength in honesty.
This is evident in the modest, yet assured debut EP by Catherine Okada which positively glows with an unaffected straightforwardness.
Hourglass was also the title of a 1997 album by Kate Rusby, a singer who has deservedly won plaudits for her authenticity and humility.
Yet while Rusby's songs are firmly rooted in the British folk tradition, Okada takes the selfsame influences and weaves them into a broader tapestry.
In this way she brings a resolutely feminine perspective to the kind of heartfelt ballads you normally associate with American artists like Elliot Smith or Bright Eyes.
Although Okada never sounds anywhere near as tortured as Smith, she would no doubt identify with that that singer's comment that song writing has more to do with shapes than words.
In her songs there seems to be an acceptance that language can, at best, only give an approximation of our emotional state.
This is represented visually in the video to Fix This Up where we see how the delicate beauty of a paper bird could be carried away by the wind at any moment.
The words to this song reflect on a possibly fleeting love that literally blows hot and cold: "I could breathe you, I could see you, I could see you running away". A sense of fragility can also be heard in a voice which sounds luminous and assured one moment, then fluttery and vulnerable the next.
The relative directness of this track contrasts with the ambitious and enigmatic title track, while the title of People Without Names suggests that issues of identity may lie at the heart of lingering self doubts.
In these, the gorgeous string and brass arrangements lend a richness to songs which doubtless started life strummed on an acoustic guitar.
The fourth and final track, An Honest Tune, was taken from a live session recording and adopts a philosophical perspective to the fine art of song craft, at one point conceding resignedly "I will never write a perfect line".
Whatever its flaws, this song nevertheless does have a closing line that manages to perfectly sum up this lovely record: "What a delicate thing we have" .
