The first song AW played that night at the Walker was Snake Charmer, Track #5 on this CD and perhaps the best song they've written. It's a refreshing departure from what generally passes for a love song — songs that are either too sugary-sweet that you'd like the artist to shut the hell up and get a room, or the all-too-familiar "She/He Left Me, and I'm Depressed" claptrap that has somehow become very popular in indie-rock circles. AW's take is more honest and true to life insofar as love and emotions more often leave us in a simple state of confusion: "I don't know why I see you and you draw me in/If only I remembered what I said to you then/I think I told you I would never see you again/Now I'm not so sure that was really what I meant." Exhilarating! The rest of the album is no different.

Included among such brave, newer songs like the title-track Flying Saucer (there's that outer-space motif again, "Flying Saucer in the sky, where will you take me tonight?"), and Late Now are some older, previously unrecorded favorites like Anywhere In the Universe (a slower, ballad-esque musing on disappointing relationships — "I don't think I've seen such a godforsaken place/Nothing around but rocks and mud."), Dolphin Language Translator (environmentalism doesn't get in the way of pretty poetry — "The planet that we live on has been cut in two/One side for me/One side for you."), and Windshield (what it might feel like to fall for a nihilist). Die-hard fans will also appreciate a newly recorded rendition of Cape Canaveral — almost three years old now, and the song still hasn't lost any of its appeal: "And if you look down at me from the sky/I'll be standing alone waiving goodbye/Blowing kisses at the sun/Ignoring everyone/I never even stopped to ask you why."

All told, Astronaut Wife have crafted a gorgeous album that goes down great with a bottle of wine and a cold, cloudless night. Dim the lights and have a glass.