More of that vaguely dancable, euphoric, angles-and-elbows electo//pop confessions. Samuel Herring's hoarse, moaning, whining, grunting vocal meltdowns are still make-or-break: if you don't get on board with it you're not going to be able to appreciate any of the album's bounty of pretty moments.
I like this better than Singles - that album's poppier sound was more at odds with Herring's emoting. This is comparatively warm, inimate, weird, capable of nestling up closer to the vocals, making then just almost, *almost* work 3/5
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment