You'd think that this would be just exactly the sort of record that I'd like - literate, sensitive, folksy, melodic, left-of-centre indie-pop - and I do like it, up to a point. The tunes are good, the lyrics are nice, and it's both coherent and diverse, and yet --
And yet it doesn't really do anything for me, even though I feel some gentle tugs on my heartstrings when listening to songs like "Eli, The Barrow Boy", even though I don't feel at all manipulated by the artist, the album, or the press coverage surrounding it, even though the songwriting is consistent throughout its running time, even though I like the whole package, both idea and execution...it's just not interesting or engaging enough, and I haven't yet managed to get through all 11 songs on the album in a single sitting.
Maybe this'll be one of those like Illinois, to which I initially reacted with a similarly muted 'this is good, but is this it?' kind of response but which, gleaming and pretty, grew on me over the months which followed. But then again, I liked Illinois more to start with, so probably not.
