The album waltzes between acoustic parts so intimate that his shoe can be heard scooting on the studio floor as he moves closer to the mic. Then come the pounding dark wave thunderstorms where electronics & guitars go Mogwai loud & Jamie screams over the hissing, spitting deluge. It's the kind of thing that makes even the most confessional-driven emo sound fake & vague, the type of record that leaves you seasick. Shudder, go sit in the sun & be glad you're not Jamie. Or, delve deeper, play it over & over, read the lyric sheet, & give your heart to the darkness.
item # 19946