Solipsism: a theory that your own existence is the only thing that is real or that can be known.

In the landlocked nation of Austin, Marc Brenton yearns for the sea. But he is in no hurry to get there. Surrounded by the Edwards Limestone, the calcified remnants of an ancient waterway, Brenton can imagine the rocks below the city melting into brine, picture his Volvo blurring into a wooden ship, sails wet with rain, that will carry him into an ocean in which his cares are not resolved but do not matter.

Nor is Marc Brenton in a hurry to tell us what is inside his head.  “I gotta take my time, give my devils their due,” he tells us in “Devil’s Due.” He must have a lot of devils in there: Corsair is his first release since 2005’s Ten Songs for Sisyphus. How many genres and sub-genres have arrived and passed in those intervening eight years? He writes, “While my name may be new to some – due to my solitary and solipsistic tendencies, constitution, and creative process – I can tell you that these songs sing old, ancient stories half-forgotten and confused with dream.”

Corsair is a wonderfully crafted collection of eight songs that describe pain, hope, and how it can all be resolved in one’s mind. The album’s CD Baby page describes Corsair as “the folk album for the thinking-man with a broken heart.” So I took the album to the thinkingest person that I know. “It’s sad, beautiful music for people with experience in life,” she said. “It is about how you think I feel.” Through it all runs the sea, as a metaphor or as an actual setting.

Produced by J Wagner, the overall sound carries faint echoes of Neil Young’s Harvest Moon and Bob Dylan’s Oh Mercy. To say Brenton’s delivery is understated is an understatement. He has used the time since Ten Songs for Sisyphus learning to sing softly. The previous album had a bit much of the “I’m from Austin so it’s cool to sing with an exaggerated twang” ethos. But Corsair is a heart murmur that can and should be listened to repeatedly.

And then there’s that thinking thing.  In “Good as Bad” we again meet Sisyphus, and “Vessels” introduces us to Hobson’s Choice (look it up).

So open a bottle of wine, maybe a Pinot Gris from Oregon, relax, think about your life, and enjoy Corsair. It may be a while before Marc Brenton’s next album arrives.

Corsair is available from CD Baby, iTunes, and Bandcamp.  Visit Marc Brenton on his homepage, Facebook, or Twitter.