The pain was palpable in nearly every word Tim Hardin sang, and the pleasure didn’t feel all that much better. A wispy-voiced jazzy/bluesy singer who played mostly to folk audiences though he did little traditional material, he’s probably most comparable to Fred Neil. Hardin’s songs — “Reason To Believe” and “If I Were A Carpenter” are practically standards by now — are intimate and introspective, with a certain spare semi-poetic flair; he doesn’t waste a word. They were recorded by a remarkable range of artists (Bobby Darin, Astrud Gilberto, Rod Stewart, Johnny Cash & June Carter, Four Tops, Marianne Faithfull, Sonny & Cher, to name just a handful). But few covers match the emotional resonance of the originals, with their delicate backing bands (another diverse bunch, including harmonica man John Sebastian, jazz vibist Gary Burton and drummer Earl Palmer) plus occasional ethereal strings. That said, Hardin can be hard to take for long — junkie self-pity, which eventually gets tedious, was never far from even his greatest efforts — and two full discs (including demos) is likely too much of a good thing. But everybody should hear at least some Hardin, who did his best work for Verve between 1964 and 1966, made his last album in 1974, and overdosed in 1980.