Hatfield’s relentless output is given some inventive production, and I have to pause to carefully listen. There’s a lot to unpack, sonically and lyrically, and it refuses to fade into the background.
Callahan’s deep gruff voice meanders through acoustic non-linear arrangements like a limo driver telling a story, completely oblivious to their own cowboy poetry.
A variety of acoustic guitar performances from Hitchcock, of songs both original and by others, which results in a very contemplative sort of musical journey.
Still burning bright, this is an interesting collection of material that has Pop veering from spoken word jazz to menacing indie rock. It’s not fast and loud, but it sure is sneering and in your face.