Nice arrangements abound on this record. It's unassuming in the way some of the tracks become earworms--an immediately familiar-feeling listen that gets better the more I've played it. The vocals have that kind of plaintive affect I expect and appreciate from British Isles indie pop. If I don't forget about it, this could work its way into the bottom half of my year end list.

I'm torn by this Hamish Hawk record. There are times when I like his vocals and his turns of phrase, and then other times when it just doesn't land at all, owing to its over-arch smugness. At those moments, I think "We already have a Morrissey and don't need another." For me, the album opens up on a high with "Juliet as Epithet." From there, it's a coast downward.