The Farewell Party, Seattle band Tomten’s sophomore full-length, drops next week, and its easy unforced beauty fits the dog days of summer to a T. Like the loveliest summer afternoon, it never seems to be trying too hard to enchant: It just does, sublimely and with unexpected resonance.

After one great EP and an even more terrific debut long-player, lead singer/keyboardist Brian Noyeswatkins and crew have firmly established their MO with The Farewell Party. Noyeswatkins, an unapologetic pop classicist, pens British-informed songs that assemble familiar ingredients with a master’s command and distinction. You’ll hear echoes of Belle and Sebastian in the airy harmonies, and hints of The Zombies and Procol Harum in the gently-whirring keyboards and stately piano that anchor many of the songs, but Tomten’s crafted its own identity from those elements, acknowledging influences without getting caught in the undertow of simple revivalism.

This is very much a record that lilts with gentle, sustained atmosphere (it’s alluringly easy to listen to, all the way through, repeatedly). Don’t let the relaxed vibe of The Farewell Party fool you, however: It’s also one of the most lovingly, carefully-crafted releases you’ll hear from anybody all year. Part of the credit unquestionably goes to producer Jason Quever of California indie band Papercuts, whose analog-warm production syncs perfectly with Noyeswatkins’ songwriting. Drummer Jake Brady and recently-departed bassist Lena Simon further aid the proceedings by employing a nuanced touch, deftly guiding many of the songs without melting into the woodwork.

Tomten’s always possessed a nimble principal songwriter in Noyeswatkins, but there’s a genuine timelessness to the tunes he’s authored this time out. The folky “You Won’t Be On My Mind” just sounds like an instant classic, with a chorus and melody so quietly captivating you could hear anyone from Johnny Cash to Bon Iver covering it. Meantime, echoes of the Beatles surface on the fragile and haunting “She’ll Pass Me By” and the short-but-achingly-sweet “Love Needn’t Try.”

Noyeswatkins’ lyrics keep this abidingly lovely record from floating too far into the ether. On “Thomasina,” a boisterous pop number goosed by sporty horns and a wonderful loping piano, he takes playful jabs at his own pretense (“Another burnt-out doomsday kid, flipping his lid”) even as he laments an unrequited crush. Like any pop songwriter worth his salt, Noyeswatkins knows when to fully embrace bittersweetness, too. Memories, and the regrets they sometimes unlock, suffuse the gorgeous “Asilomar” (“Here again, and not so far to go/the more I age, the less I seem to know,” Noyeswatkins croons in his most affecting wounded-angel voice), and flashes of that recognition form shadows amidst the album’s instrumental sunniness. Juxtaposing lyrical melancholy with melodic beauty is one of the oldest songwriting tricks in the book: The Farewell Party vividly demonstrates how much magic that contrast still conjures, in the right hands.

Tomten celebrates the release of  The Farewell Party with a Thursday night show at the Crocodile ($8 advance/$10 day of show, 8:00 p.m.).