Every time I bring up Michelle Branch in a conversation (which I do at every opportunity), the reaction I get is usually something like, “Oh wow! I forgot about her. She did A Thousand Miles, right?”

No, that was Vanessa Carlton.

I understand that the general public has trouble differentiating between Michelle Branch, Vanessa Carlton, and sometimes Natasha Bedingfield; but while Carlton may have had the biggest, most recognizable hit of all the early 2000s folk/pop-rock B-tier stars, it was Michelle Branch who reached the pinnacle of that forgotten genre with a perfect album that sounds of its time at some moments and surprisingly modern at others–an album that reminds me of the peaceful spring evenings of my childhood, yet still today brings me genuine excitement every time the opening acoustic guitar plays. That’s, of course, one of my favorite albums of all time: The Spirit Room.

So yes, you probably love “A Thousand Miles” and you might not be able to recall a Michelle Branch song off the top of your head. But I promise that at one point in middle school you heard and loved multiple singles from this album.

The most likely candidate is the opening track, “Everywhere,” and you’d probably recognize it within seconds. An acoustic guitar plays a familiar, catchy melody before an electric guitar comes in with tight, choppy chords. The song features the biggest chorus on the entire record; Branch sings “Cause you’re everywhere to me / And when I close my eyes it’s you I see.” This is a huge, arena-rock hook that still defines Michelle Branch to this day. It’s the soaring moment that separates her from some of her softer, folkier contemporaries and pushes her slightly closer to Avril Lavigne’s brand of hook-focused pop-rock.

On first listen you might think that she’s about to unleash arena rock banger after arena rock banger, but Branch performs an early pivot on the next track. “You Get Me” is a sweet love song that begins with a weirdly low-fi giggle and some sappy strings; it stands in stark contrast with the first track and the album art. The chorus is hypnotizing and the bridge is a reverberated, sleepy guitar solo that’s so simple and short-lived that you’re into the final chorus and outro before realizing it. It feels like a pleasant dream, and the next track, “All You Wanted,” feels just right as a follow-up. The opening guitar rings out like a gentle alarm, softly waking you up from the dream before vaulting you into another massive chorus (it’s another of those you might recognize) where Branch sings, “If you want to, I can save you / I can take you away from here.”

The next stretch of the album was probably painfully forgettable for people who bought the disc just for hits “Everywhere” and “All You Wanted,” but The Spirit Room’s deeper cuts set it apart from other albums in the genre. Songs like “You Set Me Free,” a catchy, inoffensive summer-sounding tune, and “Something to Sleep To,” a mid-tempo love song with a chorus featuring relaxed, layered vocals where Branch harmonizes with herself, nicely fill in the gaps between the more notable moments on this album.

While some of the bigger hitters here wouldn’t be too out of place on a modern alternative pop radio station, “Here with Me” and “Sweet Misery” absolutely sound like they were left behind two decades ago. But the former boasts the strongest verse and chorus melodies on the entire album, and the latter only sounds dated because of the echoey synthesizers and overly clean guitars in the verse–the bridge-chorus transition here is one of the brightest highlights on the album. It’s this balance between a nostalgic, of-its-time sound and catchy melodies that hold up that makes this one of my favorite albums ever.

I almost universally hate when artists end albums with back-to-back slow songs. On The Spirit Room, Branch is guilty of that. But I couldn’t imagine this set of songs coming to a close in any other way; I’ll start with the final track, “Drop in the Ocean,” an atmospheric, somewhat rambling song that doesn’t feel like a fully-realized idea–which is okay of course, because it serves its purpose as the album’s closer and follow-up to the true climax of the album and one of Branch’s best: “Goodbye to You.” The third and final (and least successful) single this album produced, “Goodbye to You” is Branch’s most beautiful and most personal song. Sparse piano chords, an intermittent guitar, and distant, minimal drums begin the song before the percussion comes closer to the front of the mix halfway through the first verse, where Branch sings, “I’ve been searching deep down in my soul / Words that I’m hearing are starting to get old / It feels like I’m starting all over again.”

And while the chorus of “Goodbye to You” isn’t as recognizably classic as the first two singles, its subdued catchiness perfectly contrasts the somber mood set in the first verse. This song isn’t extraordinary in any specific way, but it’s relaxing and emotionally calming in a way that’s difficult to describe in any other words than: I just love it.

When I think about what a list of my favorite albums might look like, I usually start off by thinking about albums that tell cohesive stories, or albums that have half a dozen A+ songs, or albums by artists who have been around for decades and are immeasurably important to me. Michelle Branch and The Spirit Room fall into none of those categories. But not too long ago I was listening to it for the thousandth time, and I thought to myself, “Hey, I’ve been listening to this and loving it for almost twenty years now, and I’ve enjoyed it every single time.” So while it may not be a critically-acclaimed musical masterpiece or a meaningful, thought-provoking statement of art, The Spirit Room is among the best albums I’ve ever heard in my life.