Lost World, the new solo EP from Way Yes singer and songwriter Glenn Davis, arrives awash in breezy, tropical rhythms that call to mind carefree summer days. Beneath this seemingly serene surface, however, turmoil reigns, with songs tracing the fallout from a tumultuous personal stretch for the musician that started in late 2013.

Lost World, the new solo EP from Way Yes singer and songwriter Glenn Davis, arrives awash in breezy, tropical rhythms that call to mind carefree summer days. Beneath this seemingly serene surface, however, turmoil reigns, with songs tracing the fallout from a tumultuous personal stretch for the musician that started in late 2013.

"I hit a point in my life where my aunt got a brain tumor and died in a matter of months, and then my marriage fell apart. And that was something I really cared about, and something I thought was a forever thing," said Davis, 28, seated outside a Victorian Village coffee shop for an early March interview. "It started to be, 'What kind of person am I going to be about in the face of this hardship?'"

Rather than dealing explicitly with these crises, the songs on Lost World are informed by the various strategies Davis developed to cope with loss and to help cultivate a needed sense of inner peace. Witness "Self Forgetful State of Mind," a loping, tropicalia-tinged turn where the musician wills his troubles to the background, or "Fly Into a Great Calm," a gorgeous, airy number borne of a desire to maintain mental stability amid turbulent times.

"The songs are expressing a bit of my New Age-iness," Davis said, and laughed. "But I think that's OK."

Lyrically, the songs are less direct than previous Way Yes albums, with some lines arriving like snippets from a half-remembered dream. "Salesmen stand on guard/ Rake the leaves from autumn's yard," he sings cryptically on the gently percolating title track.

"I'm a little more blunt when I write most of the time, and these songs, at times, were almost like stream of consciousness," said Davis, who expressed some initial misgivings about the approach ("I wasn't sure if I wanted these songs to exist, because they felt so different for me"). Inspired by friend and occasional collaborator Zac Little of Saintseneca, Davis eventually set aside these fears, allowing the material to develop more organically.

"Zac talks about writing songs like archeology, where you're digging for dinosaur bones. He just picks up an instrument and allows what needs to happen happen," Davis said. "So I would write a list of concepts … and when I was in a space I could write it was like, 'OK, I'm going to dig for that dinosaur bone.' It was a different approach for me."

Music has long served as a coping mechanism for Davis, but in recent years he's adopted additional methods for alleviating stress, including long-distance running (he completed the Columbus Marathon in 2013) and yoga.

"When things got to be hard, the pain of running for a long time, or of trying to fit into a yoga position I really had no business being in, something about that just felt tangible and real and helpful," said Davis, who will be backed by Jesse and Casey Cooper of the Receiver and Counterfeit Madison's Sharon Udoh for an EP release show at Brothers Drake Meadery on Thursday, March 24. "It wasn't like I was trying to hurt myself, but it [reminded me] emotionally and physically that I can survive if I have to. And that was really powerful for me."

The running had an unintended side effect, as well: the steady gait Davis assumed while jogging started to shape the music, informing rhythms that move with the pace-setting cadence of footsteps falling on asphalt.

"The rhythm or the chord progression is established in the first few seconds, and it doesn't change," Davis said. "It keeps going. It's that running stride."

The music also embraces a simplicity the frontman has adopted as a key element in his day-to-day existence - "I don't want to own a lot of things; I don't want to worry about a lot of things," he said - building on a handful of recorded tracks rather than the sometimes-dizzying cornucopia of sounds and textures that can spill forth on the typical Way Yes album (the band currently has enough new material recorded for an EP, though there are no imminent plans for any release).

"One part is that it's just me, and there aren't four people trying to fit ideas into a song," Davis said. "But in the last few years I've really discovered a love of simplicity."

It's one of several new discoveries the musician has made during this months-long recovery process, which also include a new awareness of his own strength and resiliency, and an acceptance of life's fleeting nature. These have allowed Davis to better weather troubled times ("Because they're not always going to be there") while heightening his appreciation of the good ones.

"The last couple of years have been pretty hard, but I've been able to find a peace, and I've been able to hit a reset button on my life," said Davis, who is currently in the midst of putting the finishing touches on a companion full-length where he confronts recent events with his usual directness ("If the EP is about coping with the stuff, then the album is about the stuff"). "I feel like I'm in a better spot, and I'm a different person than I was when I was writing those songs."

And that's the takeaway Davis hopes listeners are able to glean from Lost World, an album that's less about wallowing than rediscovering the will to push forward.

"With Way Yes, and with this, I feel like the one commonality is, even though we're writing about things that are tough, the music usually feels uplifting," Davis said. "I don't want it to be like you listen to these six songs and you're like, 'Reality is too much to handle.' It's about overcoming, not about suffering."