The music of Florida's Hundred Waters is almost preternaturally beautiful. Like water, like clouds, like insects doing what insects do in a field of wildflowers, their music drifts, trickles, flutters, dips, feeling effortless and organic. But it's sewn together in electronic threads, with inorganic, otherworldly strength. Nicole Miglis sounds like an elfin heavenly body with a directive to touch down here on earth just to remind us mere mortals to slow down and smell the roses (or listen to the music). Hundred Waters make sounds distinctly folk-rooted but inarguably contemporary and sophisticated; it's delicate and powerful, impeccably crafted, and exceedingly poetic ("The thistle by the barn/rallies its barbs/like swords from arid land not wicked, but dry"). With woodwinds and brass never playing second fiddle to analog synths and samplers, Hundred Waters create absolute harmony between two musical worlds. Songs like the gorgeous "Sonnet," with its carefully plucked guitars and looped faerie vocals, the celebratory, jazz-laced "Boreal," and the head-spinning, uncategorizable "..._ _ _ ..." all speak clearly to the adventurous, esoteric creative minds at work here. A joy.