... there's something going on in the spaces between the notes which binds it together and renders it amazing. Now that I've entered into its world, it keeps me with a lump in my throat more or less the whole way through, and I feel as if its rhythms ... have written themselves inside me, or something, so that there's a kind of inevitability in its rises and falls, as well as a feeling of wholeness. Melodies recur, overtly and subliminally, and the horns serve as punctuation and signposts along the way, taking on a different complexion each time they reappear; Jeff Mangum's voice reaches and frays and expresses and one always feels as [though] things are going to fly apart at any moment, but they never quite do. - 9/4/06
"it's just so great, and it makes me happy and sad all at once and I find myself singing and humming bits of it at inappropriate moments and I can't explain it but it stirs me" - 6/5/06
(The
song that started it all.)
Everything I've already said about this album still holds true, only more so. It's still inscrutably weird, still overflowing with life and humanity, still astonishing. I don't even know where to begin.
