If we can very briefly think back six or so years to flog that dead horse all the Junip reviews have been beating senseless this week, we'll remember that Jose Gonzalez, Junip's front man, covered the Knife's gorgeous 'Heartbeats', greasing up his solo career and bursting him into the public conscious, briefly. Further cementing that new found mainstream success the track was picked up by Sony for their 'balls' advert, and then a few weeks later by Tango in their parody of the aforementioned load of balls.

Fast forward to the present day and we'll note that April 2013 is a month for new music from two very different acts who both, rightfully, claim 'Heartbeats' as their breakthrough, the jewel in their musical crowns. But let's face it; these records couldn't be much more different. Whilst many (I) have struggled to sit through Shaking the Habitual in a single sitting – partly because of its length and partly because of its intentionally inaccessible artwork, rather than a sojourn onto Radio 1 prime time – Junip's second record is perhaps the most mellow, lovely thing you're going to hear all year.

It's easy to think of Junip as a side project of Gonzalez, but take note: Junip's first EP was released in 2005, before Gonzalez found his success; at the moment at least, Junip seems to be his focus.

'Line of Fire', the first single launches the record, and sets the tone for the optimistic but simultaneously sombre album that follows. It's one of those rare moments where music and lyrics marry perfectly and with pace and conviction, capturing that human determination to fight another day, at any cost. By the end of the first track, a piece certain to resonate with anyone who gives it the chance, Junip have torn through your emotional resilience, like Gonzalez has done so many times before and have, truly, earned your attention.

The emotional pounding takes a respite after the opener, and the timid 'Suddenly' gives you a chance to regroup before the first foray into the more psychedelic folk stylings of 'So Clear'. The more experimental tracks, like 'Baton' and 'Villain' flair up regularly, intertwined with beautiful songs that give this album heart: 'Your Life You Call' isn't quite as flooring as 'Line of Fire' but again, it overflows spirit.

Another highlight, and there are many, comes from 'Walking Lightly', which has flavours of Robert Plant's folk-centric, post-Zep creations, particularly Band of Joy.

In a moment of irony that you can be assured had someone in the studio chuckling, penultimate track, 'Beginnings', sees Junip reach into the most brooding creative corners. Harking in some subtle ways to Wish You Were Here-era Pink Floyd, it's wonderfully textured and sombre, and builds gradually in to bursts of sound that wake you up, ready for closer, 'After All is Said and Done'.

From the mind of an artist that turned harsh, saw waved electronica, a la The Knife, into a gorgeous, top-10 lovers lament and, the equally talented, Elias Araya and Tobias Winterkorn, comes a record worthy of a place in any record collection. There's enough intrigue and experimentation to keep even the most fickle and particular mind intrigued, but enough accessible melody, harmony, and genuinely personal and evocative music for it to be worthy of anyone's time.