The second song is called "Islands in the Sea", which is where you would expect to find islands; the imaginative act would be to place them somewhere else. But then, this is not music designed with the imagination in mind.
If anything else remarkable happens during this album, I'll type it immediately.
Aaargh! Jesus it sounds like that country-inflected Christian rock (that in turns inflects itself on country music to foster an enormous horrible feedback hybrid of shit and puss) that shrink-wraps its tiny genitals so as not to accidentally sex anything and in order to best deny both its own nature and the whole point of rock and/or pop. I want to scrub my own genitals with filth to counteract this antiseptic pish. All the meaningless peaks and troughs in what is an exercise in nothingness - and not in a good way.
Gil Norton produced this. Didn't he produce some Pixies albums? How in Hades does that work?
Oh, my God; this is taking forever. "All we've got is this borrowed bones," he whimpers. In a bid to have us carpe the per diem.Every song sounds aimed at a girl, a generic girl, with whom he will expect generic, boil in the bag sexual intercourse without cum and without any human contact.
I'm seven tracks in. I have to stop. Sorry. It's shit.
Ratings: Antiseptic Genitals Composed Only out of Hairless Scrotum