Although at times overly derivative, Don't Breathe a Word starts out strong with the multi-layered "Just Not Enough." Tihista's vocals are at their alternately sweet and throatiest as he moans, "half of me is dying/and I just don't do anything to stop it," with a predilection for disappointment that is the album's common thread.

The heartbreak-induced "Sucker" channels the likes of Brian Wilson's "Caroline, No" with appropo crystalline jangles and self-effacing, grief-ridden heaviness.

The lyrics and vocal style on the album's title track channel John Lennon's "Jealous Guy," while Merritt Lear's violin playing, along with Ellis and Tom Clark's string and horn arrangements, summon late-'60s pop aspirations.

(Under the moniker Epicycle, the Clark brothers also supply everything from slide guitars to Hammond B3 organs to trombone throughout the album.) Tihista forays into synthed-out backbeat on "Outta Sight, Outta Mind," but its token space pop tune quality takes away from its easy melody and feeling of sweet abandon.

On "I Love Her" he pays homage to Elliot Smith with almost identical-to-Smith phrasing and pronunciation on lines like, "It's time I told myself the truth," with the strength of the guitar-backed bridge pulling the song out of mere imitation mode.

And "Lose the Dress" is, as its title may allude, a crowd-pleaser of the sultry variety.

The line, "I'm like the very last ticket to the sold-out show," exemplifies its tongue-in-cheeky urgency.

Tihista winds it up with a barrage of last-ditch appeals.

On "Stoopid Boy" he brings himself into the realm of trebly guitar and self-deprecating pleas for the comfort of intimate acceptance; on "Don't You Know" he sings, "You make the stars come out at night," without a hint of irony; and on "Beautiful," with the chorus "nothing's beautiful without you," he lays his obsession on the table for all to examine.

Tihista's lyrics can be cloying, but they work in their ability to convey unguarded emotions and undisguised needs.

The album gels as a sweetly seductive, if only half-sophisticated (due to its too-heavy reliance on clichéd phrasing) collection of songs.