Consider Deeper Well the third act in Kacey Musgraves' voyage into her thirties, a chronicle begun with the besotted Golden Hour and continued with Star-Crossed. The latter told a sad story, documenting the fallout from her divorce to Ruston Kelly, a fellow singer/songwriter who served as the muse for Golden Hour. Delivered three years after Star-Crossed, Deeper Well examines Musgraves' continuing adventures in self-healing, offering a cycle of gratitude, contentment, and restrained wonder. Musgraves spends Deeper Well extolling the virtues of a simple kind of life, measuring happiness in terms of breakfasts at home, dinner with friends, and communing with nature in the heart of the woods. Although she gives an askance glance at a "Lonely Millionaire," counseling that "the things that shine can't buy you true happiness," the relentless soft focus and languid pace of Deeper Well can't help but carry the slightest air of luxury; her past success allows Musgraves the freedom to follow her bliss wherever it may lead. Sonically speaking, it brings her to territory that feels like something of a flip to Golden Hour. Instead of galloping through a series of new horizons, Musgraves stays still and watches the world turn around her, whittling away the brighter aspects of Star-Crossed, a process that also includes constraining her hooks. Apart from the opening "Cardinal" -- a message from the great beyond delivered with the slick pulse of a Laurel Canyon hippie trying on new wave wristbands for size -- and the sparkling "Anime Eyes," Deeper Well is filled with melodies that float and glide, unconcerned with snagging the undivided attention of the listener. Like the open-ended, amorphous production, the tunes all accentuate the record's general thrust of interior contentment. Musgraves, along with her regular collaborators Daniel Tashian and Ian Fitchuk, do manage to capture and sustain this delicate sensibility, creating a record that's every bit as pretty and memorable as gentle afternoon rain. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine