Felix Walworth's delivery isn't just pitiful, it's painful -- so when backup co-collectivists summon 90s Modest Mouse via note-bends to help seize the vibe of mundane suburban blues or grant reassurance by grabbing face+pointing out that sadness is silly and ol' drummer-director Walworth is beautiful, it's a warmhearted and complementary comfort. Playin' it soft and slow and desolate for the majority is becoming too; not just cuz moments of magnificence burst through all the better but also the loadsa room it leaves for every trembling detail, both humdrum happenings and telling tidbits: feet in creeks, going to dinner then going to bed, waking up next to someone who's unhappy and dejectedly walking to the deli, "I don't know how to talk to you without a can in my hands / or without a can in your hands", "You got a new sweater but I didn't know till I saw it in a picture / My life stayed the same but you wouldn't know cuz I never take pictures." And for a direly discouraged drummer-director, a lotta labor. Self-Assuring Slogan: "You can battering ram this life."
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