Each song's dead simple. A lump of guitars and flourishes about some angle on love, Hughes' deep dark voice poured thick on top. Muggy little sundae. Of Montreal without the structural adventurousness, a pop fiddler somewhere between Self and Eels.
Once you hear the theme, you've got the basic trajectory. But together those 25 pile up into something strange and small and soothing, a meditation that beats 69 Love Songs for wistful wisdom and glimmer of personality forged by sheer endless persistence 3.5/5
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