The life of a record reviewer is fraught by many pitfalls. One of the big ones: being handed CDs from people you don’t know. It’s impolite to say no. It’s also a tough gig because, hey, some people are nice folks making music I don’t care for. It’s a big world. So we’ve got an acoustic guitar-fronted band, a guy that goes into falsetto who probably listens to the Violent Femmes, singing things like, “She opened up her pussy to me… and said you’re going down with dignity,” “my dick’s hungry,” and I’m just shruggin’. No need to slag, but I don’t think I’ll ever play this again.