If I ever had any punk rock cred, I’m pretty sure that admitting that I love this record and that it’s about the only thing I’ve listened to (besides Roxy Music) in the last week would eliminate it. So be it. I don’t care if Jolie Lindholm sang on a Dashboard Confessional record (as a huge black sticker on the cover art proclaims – one of the worst marketing moves I’ve seen in music), although that seems to be a major selling point for this release. All I care about is that this album sounds like four 1991/1992-era shoegazers (cf. Revolver) ditched classes at Oxford long enough to write ten songs about loss, longing and heartache. Lindholm’s vocals swoop and soar over the lilting guitar riffs like drunken songbirds scattering before a storm and looking for a place to wait out the rain. And really, the songs are quite beautiful, perfect for comp tapes that fourteen-year-old boys make to give to girls who don’t know they exist. Heads up guys – this will get her attention.
–scott (Equal Vision)