In a different world he could've been an Evan Dando, maybe even a Tom Petty, but he's Mikal Cronin, awash in utter normalcy. "Made My Mind Up" is easy and hooky and pleasant enough, "Alone" is a decent shot at desolate despair swelling into lush instrumental churn, some commendable guitar tones concerning both crunchy fuzz and ornate acoustic, but it's all so general, formulaic, flavorless. Squealing loud garage-rock is rendered mundane and the soft stuff is drippy, string sections are mild and strained, there's rehash riffs and everyday melodies and the last six song titles are each single words prefaced with Roman numerals for no interpretable reason. Lyrics are negligible except when they're not - i.e. choruses neutralized deep into Humdrumville: "I feel like I'm dying", from, yep, "Feel Like", and "God I need some control / Yeah I need some control", from, that's right, "iii) Control".
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