“This album was nuts; after years of fair-to-middling output, they put out the album equivalent of a sly wink across a busy pub, a cheeky reminder that they still have the assets and talent to make cutting, vibrant records (the hidden trove of Richey lyrics didn't hurt either; "Riderless horses, Noam Chomsky's Camelot / Bruises on my hands from digging my nails out" might be the Richeyest Richey lyric that was ever Richeyed).”
This album was nuts; after years of fair-to-middling output, they put out the album equivalent of a sly wink across a busy pub, a cheeky reminder that they still have the assets and talent to make cutting, vibrant records (the hidden trove of Richey lyrics didn't hurt either; "Riderless horses, Noam Chomsky's Camelot / Bruises on my hands from digging my nails out" might be the Richeyest Richey lyric that was ever Richeyed).