There's a part in the first half of Hemingway's "Island In The Stream," where the main character, Thomas Hudson, is hosting his sons at his seaside bungalow. They're fishing and they're eating, chatting about school, fears and famous writers and painters that they've had the luck and fortune of calling friends in the far-flung places that they've lived over the years. They live a life of privilege, earned or otherwise, and money's never been anything but a number. Hudson has good friends who stay with him for extended periods of time, interesting drifters with various degrees of drinking problems. They fish all day for their dinner and everything feels so easy, even as the people involved seem so overwrought with struggles and searching for something out there in the deep water somewhere. One particular morning scene features Hudson waking up, set to begin a new day, asking his hired hand what will be on the menu for lunch and dinner and the hired hand asking if he'd like him to fix a drink. Hudson tells him no drink, but he'll have a cold bottle of beer with breakfast, just to cut through the phlegm. It's this cold bottle of beer for breakfast and deciding against work for the day that brings us to this collection of gooey, morning sunshine-y songs from Brooklyn band Hospitality. There are spirits and darker urges at work here, a roughening of the group's debut album tenderness, though it's hard to shake altogether as lead singer Amber Papini tends to sound more like a songbird than one of prey. The characters she brings to being here are those with a wide gaze, salted hair and skin from time spent staring at the open waters and secrets that they're bound to keep tucked in tight. They are enchanting tales that feel like burning light and splattered time.