At first it's the best of lo-fi, and so early! So much of GBV's crunchy hookiness, with a Frogsey yowl that stays just NMH-strange without going full Sockeye.
A haunting, empty, confidence strangeness.
And then it just turns to mush in your hands and runs downs onto your floor and congeals and dries and cakes and resists all velocity of scrubbing, 12 songs past its expiration by the 9th. Like, did the painful dirging of Louis need a first and second? It's willful, lazy mud by the second half. Still more interesting than something without the nerve 3.5/5
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