Cibelle returns with her signature blend of Brazilian downtempo and electronic trickery on her second album, _The Shine of Dried Electric Leaves_. Right from the plucked guitar start of the delicate "Green Grass," you know you're in for a treat. She brings poetry to her English lyrics -- listen to the rapturous "Phoenix" or quiet spoken word of "Lembra" -- and I imagine her Portugeuse vocals are just as striking. She is equally as adept at peppy pop, as well: "London London" is a burst of sunshine, while "Esplendor" is like a musical picnic. Cibelle's careful use of glitchy electronics and rock bombast delivers sonic interest. The staticky crackle on "Por Tida a Minha Vida" deepen what would have normally been a dreamy interlude, while the torch aspects of "Train Station" are tempered by the heavy guitar. The more cinematic "Cajuina" wraps up this rapturous album, one that bears repeated listens to grasp it fully.