The music on Craig's Hideaway, the gorgeous new solo album from Sam Craighead, was shaped by some combination of a new living environment, an anxious dog and the natural quieting that came with recording apart from his Feature Films bandmates.

The music on Craig's Hideaway, the gorgeous new solo album from Sam Craighead, was shaped by some combination of a new living environment, an anxious dog and the natural quieting that came with recording apart from his Feature Films bandmates.

Craighead sticks largely to classical guitar throughout, and his voice rarely rises above a conversational tone, as though he's being careful not to disrupt someone resting their eyes in a nearby room. Or something, at least.

"I set up my drum kit when [my wife and I] moved in together, and we realized our dog was terrified of drums," said Craighead, who will be joined by a backing band, dubbed the Tuesday Night Music Club (yes, after the Sheryl Crow album), for a record release show at Holy Moses on Saturday, Nov. 14. "He's also afraid of bass, so any low, rumbly stuff I'd have to do when [my wife] was going to leave and take the dog with her."

At times, Craighead would leave these heavier elements out altogether - "There's a lot of percussion that's just me hitting a glass or whatever," he said - and the music naturally developed a twilight stillness that bleeds through whether the musician is crafting a 20-plus-minute soundscape ("Pokemon Rolodex") or crooning about a biker gang, as he does on "Legend of the Starboyz," perhaps the prettiest, most introspective song to ever include the term "crotch-rocket."

Though the music generally projects a sense of calm, Craighead's words are steeped in grownup anxieties. Songs touch on everything from the natural drift that occurs between old friends ("We should catch up soon," he sighs on the sepia-tinged "Best Boys") to awkward exchanges with strangers. "Walking," for instance, took shape in the wake of a halting conversation the musician had with another guest at a house party.

"For whatever reason, I left the party and was like, 'That went weird. I wish I was able to relate to that person I'll never see again better,'" Craighead said. "I think that bothered me because I want to understand other people."

In a sense, Craighead has embraced music as a means of fostering this understanding, and he said with each passing year he becomes more interested in exploring lives other than his own.

"Everything I wrote for the longest time was really focused on whatever my situation was, and I want to approach things from more than just 'me, me, me,'" he said. "I like the idea of trying to understand someone I don't understand or that I have nothing in common with, and I think I'll have more songs like that in the future."

Holy Moses

6 p.m. Saturday, Nov. 14

909 W. Fifth Ave. #2., Grandview Heights

ALSO PLAYING: Jacoti Sommes, Mortimur, Julian Dassai