I gave this CD a thorough test. I didn’t just stare at my stereo as it played. I moved recently, so I unpacked some boxes while I listened to it, hung some pictures. Good music doesn’t fade to the background when pushed. It cuts through the hammering of nails and dropping of dishes and does its thing no matter how hard you try to give your attention to mundane bullshit. It waves at you like a hyperactive child, and you find yourself kicking empty boxes across your living room and hammering your palm to the beat. Jack Scratch’s gloomy bar rock passed the test.