They sound nothing like each other, but Colorado-bred Laura Veirs has a penchant for the kind of hyperliterate stream-of-consciousness lyrics that make Destroyer nerd Dan Bejar's albums captivating, frustrating and often inaccessible. Unlike Bejar's poncey avant-glam, Veirs situates herself in a storytelling indie folk tradition that makes cryptic mutterings about trees who write poetry and tossed-off references to Basho, Virginia Woolf and Kurt Cobain (in one song!) pay off. The intense wordiness works in tandem with the experimental sound arrangements on Carbon Glacier (recently reissued on Nonesuch), which are darkly atmospheric but still spare. Veirs's voice is slightly flat, with a quizzical tone that makes you want to really listen to what she's saying. Tricky but beautiful, Carbon Glacier has an icy clarity that grows on you.