Bleak days, black nights, searching for solace in the sauce, sweating out a hangover, smoking your teeth yellow; I can hear that stuff in the chords. Curlew place a lot on your shoulders, but few bands reward you so much for your commitment.
It sounds like Dan Deacon suffered an aneurism. It’s like Captain Ahab lost the plot. It’s avant-punk gone electro. It’s pretty cool in parts, catchy in others, absurd in most – absurd is a good thing in this day and age, though.