Parplar might be in some ways a folk record, or at least a folky singer/songwriter one. But if so, it's at the freakiest margins of those genres -- not in a distasteful outsider way, but in a pretty impressive and certainly very eclectic one. A major aspect of that eclecticism is the sheer number of instruments employed, including not just Larkin Grimm's own acoustic guitar, dulcimer banjo, Casio, and Chinese harp, but also accordion, dobro, viola, trumpet, violin, trombone, electric guitar, and more by numerous supporting musicians. But the most important element of the music -- and one that's just as varied in timbre as the instrumentation -- is Grimm's voice, which can go from angelic high crooning to mischievous, low, whispery phrasing, as well as more rustic basic folky singing and nerve-jangling, almost munchkin-ish high-pitched vibrations. It can get almost as accessible as some of Joni Mitchell or Phoebe Snow's work, or as weird as some of the odder early 21st century acid folk. Never settling into predictable moods, there's something for a wide range of adventurous folk and rock fans here, whether the near alt-country folk of some tunes; the "Ghost Riders in the Sky"-like "Ride That Cyclone"; the haunting classical chamber music-tinged aura of some tracks; the reserved and remote starkness of "They Were Wrong," which might be most in line with what many underground female folk vocalists were offering around this era; or the sheer eccentric whimsy of "How to Catch a Lizard," whose weirdness is in the Holy Modal Rounders' league. If there's any criticism, it's that the sheer variety, a strength in many ways, can also be a weakness in that it sometimes seems as though Grimm is an actor playing numerous parts, making one wonder, at times, whether the versatility is coming at expense of personal expression.