Upon his first appearance, Songs: Ohia’s Jason Molina was often considered a performer in the mold of Palace Brothers’ Will Oldham: a young man with a great determination to sound old and wise beyond his years. Mostly, it was the rough-and-tumble arrangements that generally sounded like something you might experience on a back porch somewhere in Appalachia at least a century ago. Credit Molina’s voice, a parched, desperate quavering mess that often sounds as if it’s on the verge of expressing a mental breakdown. The songs are slow and deliberate with each chord crashing down with drums that rarely roll but plod and pound with a highway road gang’s methodical repetition. Gentle asides can be heard in the sweet melodies that bubble to the surface with “Crab Orchard” and “White Sulfur.” The line-up would continue to shift throughout the band’s career. Molina’s singing and songwriting is really the only constant and he is sometimes the only musician present. He’s a stirring talent, not meant for everyone, but for those with a taste — acquired or naturally understood — he is a rewarding, emotionally cathartic listen.