The Threshingfloor inspires profound conclusions about our humanity: we are kin to those in the far corners of the world, and our kinship lies in our frailty. "Back to dust, as we have been told / clinging to the sky like smoke," sings Edwards in opener "Sinking Hands." His characteristically deep, resonant voice calls out to us to remember our wretchedness. But like a grandiose landscape, Edwards' writing and the band s arrangements point to the divine not only as a prowess under which we cower, but as a beauty in which we can rest.