Music

This semi-concept album about America’s trickle-down moral decline breezes from breathy, wistful Americana (opener ‘Water Surrounds’) to crochety Neil Young moan-rock (‘Rat’s Alley’). Ironically, folksy, countrified rock like this is only indie thanks to the cyclical nature of fashion – not 20 years ago, this kind of down-home, car radio-friendly countrified rock would have been aimed squarely at the Midwest’s white truck men. The album would probably have been more effective among that audience than preaching to commie indie fans, but it’s still a heartfelt and affecting record.