Both of Richard Buckner's albums are meant to be heard late at night, when everyone around you is asleep and the lights are out. Spare and simple, and augmented by little more than an acoustic guitar and an occasional piano or violin, Buckner's dramatic ballads shouldn't be experienced with anyone else in the room. His second album and major-label debut, Devotion + Doubt, is filled with numerous stark, emotionally searing moments, particularly "Song Of 27" and the a cappella "Fater." Buckner—who sings a lot like Dwight Yoakam would if he were strictly a somber, angst-ridden balladeer—shows remarkable restraint throughout Devotion + Doubt, and he smartly peppers the album with gorgeous little instrumental interludes like "Kate Rose." Buckner's voice strains just enough to lend drama and texture to his personal songwriting; what seems like a flaw at first ultimately proves to be yet another one of his many assets. Devotion + Doubt is a great record, and both of Buckner's dark, winsome albums deserve widespread attention.