Let’s get one thing straight right out of the gate: I love this album. Wholly, completely, and without irony.

It’s not just a nostalgia thing either: despite Jars of Clay’s mainstream success in the mid 90s, I didn’t get into them until a decade later (when I stole all of my mom’s JoC CDs after graduating high school). Even after getting into more respectable music, I’ve always loved Jars of Clay. They’re not just good for a CCM band—they’re good period.

And even in the midst of a long and consistent career and in the shadow of a widely celebrated debut, I think their sophomore release, Much Afraid, has always been my favorite.

Don’t get me wrong—their self-titled debut cannot be matched. Their hook-filled songs were aided greatly by drum loops and string samples. Much Afraid has little of that same sonic palette, opting instead for a more conventional alt-rock arrangement.

Initially, people were disappointed by the change, but twenty-three years later, that disappointment feels silly. Sure, the sound of the debut isn’t here, but instead there are shades of Radiohead, Oasis, and Toad the Red Sprocket. And not in a “Christian-alternative-for-secular-band” sort of way. These tunes stand toe-to-toe with any of the mainstream alternative hits of the mid-90s. And actually, that was the market this album was released to. It debuted at number eight on the Billboard 200. It had mainstream radio play. “Five Candles (You Were There)” was written for the end credits of Jim Carey’s Liar, Liar (the filmmakers chose to play a blooper reel instead). One outtake features guest vocals by Alison Kraus.

That success is thanks to the band’s incredible songwriting, which never felt the need to kowtow to Christian radio’s idol of “positivity,” refusing to shy away from more honest topics (many fundamentalists dismissed the band as backslidden for it). In fact, one friend of mine cheekily refers to Jars of Clay as “Christian wrist-cutter music,” which might be a little overboard. But there are some truly heart-wrenching moments on this record—most notably the seven-minute “Frail,” a delicate and gorgeous ballad rife with huge ambience and intelligent string arrangements, which may be the best song they ever wrote. It was also one of the first two songs they ever wrote, alongside “Fade to Grey,” which also appears here (although Flail was originally an instrumental).

But by and large, these songs are perfect. Well written, impeccably arranged, and glossed over with big-budget production values that bring out the best of the songs instead of distracting from them. Opener “Overjoyed” has minimal overdubs, while “Tea and Sympathy” gets a boost with big strings, bringing the song from a laid back alt-pop ballad to a big Beatles-y epic. “Crazy Times” sets aside the orchestra for loud electric guitars and a quick tempo.

Even the deep cuts are incredible. Halfway through “Portrait of an Apology,” I shouted to my wife, “this album is so good,” and that was even before its sparse, acoustic verses transmuted into the big, keyboard heavy chorus. The title track, buried in the back of the record, is a hushed prayer for help that is a far more restrained choice for a title track than you might think.

In short, this album is absolutely brilliant. Despite the inevitable comparison and disappointment to their flawless debut, Much Afraid is just as good, proving that Jars of Clay were far more than a fluke success. And while it failed to reach the same critical or commercial success of the debut, that’s a completely unfair assessment.