It’s common to see Nick Drake’s third and final album described in terms like “fragile,” “fractured” or “eerie,” though a lot of this seems to be projecting his known deteriorating mental health onto something that doesn’t warrant it. Certainly there are strange and haunting aspects to these eleven songs fit into less than half an hour. But that’s the case for all Drake’s music, and as with all his other songs, there is also abundant life and light coursing through the mysteries. Apart from one brief tinkle of piano, the album is 100% Drake’s voice and acoustic guitar, and especially on the micro-minimalist blues of “Parasite” and the hypnotic arpeggiation of “Road,” you can really hear how much he grooved. The shortness of the songs doesn’t mean they are fragmentary, either — each is constructed with Swiss-watch precision. Don’t be fooled by tragic hero narratives, this was a creator still at the height of his powers.