More uncategorisable magnificence from these Chicago-based mavericks whose four previous albums have documented a seemingly eternal quandry as to whether they’d prefer to sound like Tom Waits, Can, Sonic Youth or Hank Williams. Thankfully, they’re still no nearer to resolving this conundrum and their music continues to be a feast of mournful pedal steel guitar, muted, rattling funk, waspish feedback and abstract flights of lyrical fantasy. An understated but peculiar delight.
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