Ruby Red

On first listen, Ruby Red is explosive, raucous, and exciting. Repeated listening reveals different textures, more nuanced emotions, softer tones. 

Not content to cater only to the nosebleed section, McLamb and company fill the rest of Ruby Red with the kind of quirky, gossamer pop that should appeal to Merge loyalists

A diverse set of ambitious rock compositions, Ruby Red liberally accesses its loaded instrumental arsenal and pays meticulous attention to structure, thereby weighing down and reining in McLamb’s normally breezy melodies.

Absent of the need to serve such a singular purpose for McLamb, Ruby Red is free to sprawl and amble, joyous in its own sense of creative possibility.

Libraries had The Love Language advancing from scratchy lo-fi to a deft and manicured sound. But Ruby Red goes too far, abandoning raw verve for a wall of sound that’s somehow both hollow and stifling.

It seems worked over and worked over again to a point of fine craftsmanship. However, it is so refined to an extent that the vocals seemed buried and the hooks need to be listened to on repeat for them to emerge.