Some albums should come pre-packaged with warning stickers. No, I'm not talking about those misbegotten parental advisory stickers that send housewives and Wal-Mart shoppers screaming "Won't somebody please think of the children!" And, of course, only strengthens the disire of the kiddies to have their older brother buy it for them. On the contrary, what I'm talking about is appending stickers on discs that don't reveal their brilliance to audiences until listened to on headphones the size of Princess Leah's cinnamon buns.

Grizzly Bear's sophomore release, Yellow House, is exactly that kind of album. Listen to this record at mid-afternoon on a car stereo at medium volume and it just doesn't come across - you'll wonder what all the hub-bub's about. But investing in a nice pair of cans (Hey O!) and locking yourself in a photographers darkroom really helps the listener to gain the proper appreciation for this mostly quiet stunner. Grizzly Bear are widely compared to other main Freak-Folk artists of today such as Devendra Banhart and especially Animal Collective which is somewhat understandable. However, Yellow House far outshines anything else in those artists repertoires for the sheer fact that Grizzly Bear write much catchier songs than Banhart and they don't have a shred of the pretentiousness that Animal Collective is typically waist deep in. Plus, those Beach Boys style harmonies on tracks such as "Knife" and "Central and Remote" are pure ear candy.

Other tunes like "Lullabye" feel like earlier Elbow material mixed with a whisper of Robert Wyatt for good measure. Yellow House brings the same kind of atmosphere to the table that TV On The Radio does to their work, but only if TVOTR were to gobble down a fistful of Quaaludes first then press the record button. Yellow House is a bit of a slow mover, but those that are patient will soon be hypnotized by Grizzly Bear's undeniable virtuosity - that seems to resonate more an more with each successive spin. throw this one on while lying on your back, staring out at a clear midnight sky, contemplating the meaning of life and I promise all will seem right with the world.