The most striking thing about Jeremy Enigk’s World Waits, the much-anticipated follow-up to his 1996 solo album Return Of The Frog Queen, is its constant and seamless stylistic shifts. Even the brief opener “A New Beginning” evolves from ambient guitar picking punctuated by the cyclical panning of ethereal female voices, to the grandeur of what sounds like a fully orchestrated rock opera overture, in about a minute and a half. The other nine tracks that make up World Waits range from thoughtful folk-tinged pop (”River To Sea”) to quirky, deliberately restrained indie rock (”Canons”), all held together by Jeremy’s trademark voice, often stacked on top of itself and drenched in reverb.

Along the way, his experimental nature is still evident, though it comes out in very different ways than the psychedelic orchestrations and spastic vocal outbursts that made Frog Queen so adventurous. “City Tonight” is a mid-tempo rocker laden with Depeche Mode synths underneath a chorus of call-and-response vocal layering, while “Wayward Love” pits lush strings and 70s prog vocal harmonies against classical guitar and swelling keyboard pads, propelled through a brief two-minutes by distant hand drums. Meanwhile the unresolved arpeggios of “Dare A Smile” sound at once sweet and anxious against the constant pedal tone, as the song slowly churns with its soothing but nightmarish beauty.

For all the instrumentation and full orchestrations found on World Waits, the production wisely never gets in the way of Jeremy’s vocals, which are as strong as ever at both extremities of his range. The most memorable moments are those when everything gives way to allow as much space as possible to showcase his voice, such as in “Damien Dreams,” which ranges from his lowest raspy hum, to a screeching, tortured cry. An especially moving moment is the soaring vocal melody of the first verse of “Burn,” made all the more effective by its sparse accompaniment, a simple piano/organ drone.

As with Return Of The Frog Queen, the biggest (and perhaps only) complaint that can be made about World Waits, is that it’s over far too quickly. In 36 minutes, Enigk manages to effortlessly combine a myriad of genres and bend them to his whim, while stretching his voice from a rich, low growl, to an airy falsetto. His longtime fans will surely cherish the album as an instant classic that holds up against his earlier work, even Sunny Day Real Estate’s 1998 masterpiece “How It Feels To Be Something On.” I only hope that there is enough good press to get this album the attention it deserves, so that the insatiable appetite of his adoring public might be able to see a follow-up without waiting another ten years.