Neil and Tim Finn team up for the first time since Crowded House's Woodface album, and if you're coming into this one expecting the glossier pop tones of that album, you won't find it here. Finn is a raw album; the brothers play all the instruments (except for one bass part on the last track), and it sounds like much of the album was recorded live in the studio. It almost feels like Neil Finn's Ram, only without a Monkberry Moon Delight.

What the album does have are a lot of intricate, pretty melodies that reveal themselves upon repeated spins, and the sound of the brothers' voices harmonizing, which, as you might guess, is a nice thing indeed. This album is not really the place to start to understand Neil Finn and his grasp of the pop song, but rather another piece of the whole puzzle.

Highlights of the album: "Eyes of the World", where the brothers trade vocals; the absolutely jaw-droppingly beautiful "Last Day of June"; "Angels Heap" and "Where is My Soul", where the brothers' harmonies take the forefront; and the echoey, almost trance-like "Suffer Never".

Finn is a solid album with no clunkers; it rewards patience and repeated listens.

This is a dark, dark album full of native rhythms and chanting and even insect sounds to create a Catholic nightscape. Lots of guilt ("Only Talking Sense"), lust ("Angels Heap"), and angst ("Where is My Soul"). And the melodies, well, they're just haunting. Period.

I'm quite a Neil Finn fan; I own all his solo albums and saw him live in San Francisco a couple years ago, and it was a great show, but the fact of the matter is that nothing that either Finn has ever done in their entire musical careers (whether it be Crowded House, Split Enz, or their respective solo works) matches the beauty of this wonderful album. It feels smoky and low-key...like it was recorded in some backroads bar on a slow wedneseday night. It may not be as polished as Finn's remarkably clean studio work, but it also lacks the sterile feel of his pop music. Every song is cozy and warm like an old blanket; you just envelope yourself in the album until it runs out way too soon, in which case you're forced to listen to it again and again and again. This album is one of the greatest and most underappreciated works I've ever come across, and it was singlehandedly responsible for steering my impressionable young ears away from the din of MTV-friendly music. For that, I am eternally grateful. Now to go listen to it again.