Reviews by funny_character

Even if the list's taste in Hip-Hop is generally pretty good, I really didn't think I was gonna see any genuinely deep cuts from the peak of backpack rap. But sure enough, here we are. I haven't heard of this and that feels kind of wild (Note: It turns out that I *have* heard Mike Ladd before, he has a pretty great verse on Christine by Billy Woods, a song off of Aethiopes, which is an *unbelievably* good album if you like unique and heady rap music). Hell, there's a company flow feature here, meaning an El-P verse, and this *still* isn't really talked about a ton. This is an underground hip-hop album with an aesthetic based in Afro-Futurism, experimental concepts, and heady writing. The closest stuff I can think of that broke bigger is Deltron 3030, or The Cold Vein by Cannibal Ox, but this actually came out first (not by a whole lot, admittedly). Regardless, I'm not really sure why this hasn't been re-discovered in the internet era, maybe it's the weird, tiny label this came out on, or maybe it's because this is a little more abstract than it's peers, but regardless, this is still certifiably underground. Although I think the quality *is* here. There are consistent, futuristic beats. Dense, creative, and conscious verses, and plenty of great songwriting moments across the runtime. The strongest song here may be Bladerunners, with a fantastic set of features from Company Flow. Even a song like the 10 minute long To The Moon's Contractor is worth it; even if it functions more like a techno song than anything. I also really enjoy Airwave Hysteria, No. 1 St., and Red Eye To Jupiter. Although Feb. 4 '99 (For All Those Killed By Cops) may have the best verse by Mike Ladd on the entire album, he's basically just delivering some really incredible slam poetry, but it *works* here. But this whole project manages to be consistent and ambitious across it's runtime. The only complaint I have is that the lyrics end up occasionally a little cheesy. It's the few moments where Mike Ladd is saying something important that he just can't neatly slot into his poetry that jump out the most. It's the risk that some conscious Hip-Hop runs, but it's usually not distracting here. This manages to be a really interesting hidden gem that I am glad to discover.

Fucked up, scuzzed out blues rock. Like if The White Stripes made music with the intent of starting fights. And they have *real* blues credibility too. The Jon Spencer Blues Explosion has recorded with R.L. Burnside, and that's good enough for me. The weird and noisy take on garage rock and blues here has some pure muscle, and surprisingly good songs. Frankly, I think the screaming, the insane lo-fi riffs, and threatening bizarre sound result in one of the more exciting mutations on the genre I've ever heard.

Nick Cave is one of my favorite ever songwriters, but even I must admit that the list's Nick Cave picks are somewhat bizarre. Abattoir Blues / The Lyre Of Orpheus is one of the more defensible ones though, there are some fantastic highs here, and it has it's devotees. But I personally don't even think it's in the top five Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds albums. Although, I do think it has kind of been the archetype for all of Nick Cave's music after it. The gothic blues punk sound of his '80s and '90s output is largely tempered here. Nick Cave instead embraces orchestral arrangements, soulful currents, and the odd moment of muscular, minimalist rock. The evolution does kind of make sense if you spend enough time with his music, and the near Biblical intensity of his performances still give you the reminder that Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds sued to be much, much angrier. Regardless, there is still a certain kind of epic intensity to the best material here. Songs like Cannibal's Hymn, Hiding All Away, Fable Of The Brown Ape, The Lyre Of Orpheus, Supernaturally, Carry Me, and O Children are all *fantastic*. You'll find epic swells, understated rockers, pieces of high poetry, and moments of stunning beauty among the above songs. And outside of them, this still manages to be really consistent for a double album. Although, I don't know if it *really* benefits from it's length. Which becomes clear if you listen around Nick Cave's discography and hear albums that feel just as sprawling, yet manage to be much less bloated. Although, the experience of listening to this, combined with my stated bias, does a lot here. Abattoir Blues / The Lyre of Orpheus still holds a place in Nick Cave's enormous discography as a fantastic statement.

To be up-front, I talk a *lot* of shit about The Grateful Dead. It is, admittedly, less about the band than it is about the culture of interacting with the band. Before there was something a little wrong with Phish fans, or Ween fans, or (perhaps to a lesser extent) Primus fans, there was something wrong with Grateful Dead fans. Grateful Dead fandom appears to be a full time job, and part of me wants to check out the club. After all, I like the aesthetic, and abstract, lengthy rock excursions. But another part of me can't bear to see myself become someone who says things like "listen, this really isn't what The Dead are all about, check out Caution (Do Not Stop On Tracks) on Europe '72, Vol. 6, disc 3, and *that* will really change your life". All I'm saying is that Grateful Dead fandom seems like a lot of work, and it may come at the cost of living a life that is completely unrelatable to the out crowd (read: the rest of society). Anyways, the band's live reputation is such that I occasionally forget that they have any studio albums at all. And I have been led to believe that American Beauty is their most successful (if not only successful) studio effort. All of this is to say that while American Beauty is a pretty good album, it doesn't exactly give me insight into why people feel the way they do about The Dead. This is a roots rock album with pretty enjoyable songs, and the odd moment of transcendence. Box Of Rain, Friend Of The Devil, Sugar Magnolia, and Truckin' are among my favorites. And the organic, kind of free way these songs unravel does hint at the band's bread and butter. I ultimately enjoyed American Beauty, but I also don't really get a glimpse into what makes The Dead special here. Although, the list does also have Live/Dead, and I am interested in giving that a try when the time comes.

A love letter to São Paulo through the medium of downtempo. Suba delivers a pretty great example of the genre here. Nocturnal, hypnotic structures meet colorful, and attention grabbing sounds all over this thing. Cool percussion, sour guitars, and some elements of Brazilian music abound. Sometimes, I think this kind of loses the songs in the "vibe", but this is a really good listen.

I recently watched the 1978 Sargeant Pepper movie starring The Bee Gees, and Peter Frampton, and it made me wonder if I even like these songs. But then when I gave this a listen for today, my fears were assuaged, I do still love Abbey Road, but this experience has made me realize how much of The Beatles' success is in performing and arranging their compositions. This is kind of the one for me, as of now, it's the only Beatles album I will give a 5, but I didn't grow up with these songs or anything, so I honestly think I kind of got into Abbey Road by first just sort of marveling at the incredibly high detail in it's execution. Then I slowly learned to love the songs. And it's really the only Beatles album where the entire Beatles thing works for me. The ambition and the most beautiful moments here like on Something and Here Comes The Sun but up against goofy stuff like Maxwell and Octopus' Garden. And it's easy to scoff at these songs a little, but that attention to detail is so deeply ingrained on Abbey Road that even these songs just work. I just think this is the perfect Beatles album, it has the complexity, the driving rock, and the pop potency of the band's best prior to this point without the bloated of The White Album, or thr occasional eye roll that I have on Sgt. Pepper. And then they wrap it up with the side two medley, which may be my favorite thing the band has ever made. It's such an ambitious distillation of the band's greatest tendencies executed as a singular, complete piece. I like remaining Beatles skeptical, but I have to admit that Abbey Road is the one where they just get me and it all works. I think it's the most perfect statement of their career.

I don't have a particularly nuanced take on the (relatively) early Beach Boys albums. To me they're enjoyable, summer pop music, made special largely by their incredible harmonies. And, while I thoroughly enjoyed The Beach Boys Today! It doesn't do a whole ton to challenge this perception. The biggest surprise is really just in how consistent it is, The Beach Boys deliver 11 consecutive, pleasant pop songs, and one behind the curtain field recording of the band and their team chatting. Anyhow, I don't want to downplay the songwriting here, it is honestly among thd best I've heard from this era, and there were a couple of moments that sounded sharply modern in a way that reminded me that thd Beach Boys are nearly as lodged into the DNA of modern pop music as The Beatles. If you like the Beach Boys' hits or consider yourself an aficionado of well-written harmonies, this is worth your time.

If you had just tried to tell me that Leonard Cohen's new wave album was secretly *really* great, I would have just assumed you were insane. But, now, sitting on the other side of I'm Your Man, I think it makes a little sense. I think it has something to do with new wave's connection to goth, and goth's lineage, which, through a certain lens, makes it back to Leonard Cohen's starkest folk albums. And, when looking at it like this, it kind of feels like Cohen is giving his blessing to the next generation of gloom-mongers. But, there is still room for this to have gone wrong. I think the smartest thing that I'm Your Man does is keep the Leonard Cohen DNA at the front and center. Leonard Cohen is someone who has always come out on top due to the strength of his songs, and this is another great batch. And even though there are glossy synths and reverbed vocal passages, Cohen's poetry is still brutally, beautifully honest, and his vocals still fly in the face of conventional wisdom. And staying firm on these things alone is enough. Although, it doesn't just feel like Cohen was riding trends either. He taps into something almost dark wave-y on the chilly synths here. And there is a discotheque feel across the album that serves as a really cool backdrop to his anachronistic poetry. Songs like First We Take Manhattan, Everybody Knows, I'm Your Man, and Tower of Song are enough to make I'm Your Man carve out a worthwhile place in a very high achieving discography. Even Take This Waltz ends up working in it's own way, even if it's sort of dissonant with the vibe here. I was absolutely shocked that I liked this as much as I did, I guess I just didn't think that Cohen had it in him, but I am happy to be wrong.

It's round two for Dexys Midnight Runners. The last album of theirs I got was thr I'll fated Don't Stand Me Down, which embraced more experimental song structures at the cost of a less interesting sound. But even though it was an admirable effort, it ended up with the worst attributes of both sides where the songs were both incredibly messy *and* boring. To start, I'll say that Too-Rye-Ay is substantially better than Don't Stand Me Down. But the early, careful steps Dexys makes towards that later territory still don't work. For the positives, this album showcases a really enjoyable Celtic folk inspired pub rock sound. The Celtic Soul Brothers, Let's Make This Precious, All In All, and Old are a great time. These songs are a little cheesy, but a lot of earnest fun and imminently listenable. And If Dexys were content with this, I think everything would have been fine. But, Kevin Rowland fell into a weirdly common pitfall. That is to say, he wasn't content with making pop-punk adjacent, Celtic rock music, and became obsessed with honoring his favorite soul albums by trying to become an inheritor of their sound. This, kept, happening, I genuinely think there may have been something in the water at this place, in this time. Anyways, in my opinion, it never worked for these guys, and it doesn't work here. I think the soul inspired songs that really populate side 2 are largely a slog, even if they're generally well executed. Rowland just can't capture the joy of the original wave of the genre. Amyways, Dexys do ultimately end up leaving a good taste in your mouth though, we end on Come On Eileen, a really good song that's really funny to me due to a complex web of inside jokes. Although, since it released, Dexys have been trying to outrun this song's capacity to make them one hit wonders. And it pretty much made them utterly collapse for a while there. Although, in the modern world, it seems as though they may have made their piece. I will say that even though this is a mixed bag for me, I really enjoyed it.The best stuff is a ton of fun, and the worst stuff can't kill my high.

It's Frank Sinatra, and he's doing the Frank Sinatra thing, and I can probably leave it there. He's got a collection of great pop songs here that he brings his effortless charisma to, and it's an enjoyable listen. Yes, the songs run into each other a little, and yes, a couple of them (Makin' Whoopee and Anything Goes in particular) have been rendered kind of bizarre and laughable with age, but there is still a joy in songs like How About You?, You Make Me Feel So Young, and other earnest, enjoyable pop standards. It's a solid listen.

After making the *incredibly* well received, wildly successful classic that is Rumours, where could Fleetwood Mac have possibly gone? The answer is Tusk, a 75 minute long, messy, overbuget, cocaine fueled cult classic masterpiece. I will say that Tusk kind of has to get up to speed, but from Storms on, the band is in pretty rare form. There is the full spectrum of great songwriting, from the hard rockin, weirdly percussion centered, high energy title track to beautiful little cuts like Beautiful Child and Brown Eyes and even jammier stuff like Sisters Of The Moon. Even though I do think the album hits a stride later, I think The Ledge is one of the coolest songs here. It's got a raw, lo-fi sound, a weird, high energy bass guitar core, and a subtle country twang. Out of virtue of being big and weird and messy, this isn't exactly gonna end up perfect, but there is a pretty incredible consistency here for what this is. It ends up as an exploration of great, varied songs, unexpected sounds, and a raw attitude that makes this a pretty exciting listen. Honestly, I'm not even sure I've fully processed Tusk, but the more I think about it, the fonder I feel about it.

Music to get hurt to. Distinct from music to hurt yourself to. This is the soundtrack to getting a brake disc thrown at you, and then poking the tender skin until it gets inflamed. This is soundtrack to getting your teeth knocked in with a utility chain. Beyond daring (if the band's live shows were any indications) this is some of the rare music that might be positively, *gloriously* dangerous. This is spiritually the grandfather of Yamantaka Eye, as well as Facade (a band I caught at a noise festival who dumped a bunch of lightbulbs all over their drumkit, destroyed an 8-pane window, and played until their drums were unusable, after which they constructed a kind of sculpture with the remains). Yes, it's loud, and it's abrasive, and abstract, but that's because it is supposed to hurt, at least a little. It's a celebration of noise as music, music as noise, noise as noise, and found, industrial objects as strange little art pieces, in and of themselves. Besides, if you really dive in here, I honestly think it's more tuneful than people are willing to admit. These are still structured like songs, there's a strong rhythmic center at pretty much all times, and the vocals make some level of sense. There *is* stuff to latch onto, even if it is, admittedly, abstract. What really pulls this ahead to me is imagining how this is it's stubborn singularity. On later Einstürzende Neubauten albums, the band is still frightening, but they also resolve into something that makes more sense within a broader experimental music context. After they get a couple of albums out, you suddenly have some context for the band, and this is magnified for someone like me, who can listen to this and find everything about the band, their history, their techniques, their philosophy on the internet. But, if you found this in a record store in 1981, you wouldn't have any other album from the band to compare it to, and you could only know what the liner notes tell you. This *sounds* like it could have feasibly been recorded by like a junkyard punk cult. This sounds like it comes from the fringes of society, and even though we now know more about the band, Kollaps' sound is powerful and uncompromising enough that this illusion kind of persists. This *still* sounds alien and dangerous, more like genuine found footage than an artistic endeavor. The overall experience is truly exhilarating, and wildly unique.

This is a good week for soul and funk albums. Although I will admit that I have a strong preference for the latter and this skews towards the former. The first side last song here are incredible though. And everything in between is solid. There's No Place Like America Today taps into something spiritual, political, and humanistic. The themes are still relatable, and even the album's name is as loaded and powerful as it was when it came out. Even if I can't relate precisely to the experiences on here, I think Curtis Mayfield very powerfully invokes the universal. Even if I don't see myself coming back to a ton of these songs, there is a power and a bespoke grace here. Curtis Mayfield handles his subjecat matter very elegantly. I am ultimately very glad I heard this.

I enjoyed this, but the meat of the discussion around this album is so tied up in things I know very little about that I'm pretty sure I'm not the right person for the job here. I don't speak a lick of French, and I'm only now hearing about Serge Gainsbourg for starters. Basically, in a nutshell, Serge Gainsbourg was most famous for being a provocateur, and I guess he's kind of a French national treasure in a weird way. This album is about an affluent man hitting a child with his car and becoming sexually obsessed with her. Then I think she dies in a plane crash? I'm not sure. Anyways, the subject matter here is pretty fucked. Given this summary, I kind of listened to this with the lens one should approach Lolita with. I had the assumption that the intent of this album was to use the soft spoken affluence of the narrator to highlight the grotesque nature of his obsessions and get to a point about the manipulation of abuse. And, regardless of the artist's intent, this lens works. The funky, nocturnal, slightly ominous music also plays into this very well. But, seeing discussion about this album, I'm not completely sure that this was the intent. I've also seen a lot of arguing over Serge Gainsbourg in regards to this album. I've seen people accuse him of being a misogynistic creep. I've seen people defend him as a misunderstood l, daring figure. And frankly, I don't know enough to get to the bottom. Frankly, I do think that the interpretation of this album that works for me would be cheapened if the stuff on here was completely earnest. But despite this doubt, the sound alone here is enough to at least get a few points. It really is a cool sounding album, even if it's creepy as hell. But I really can't go above a 3 here. Its not just the above concerns that cap it though. There are songs here that I don't really like, and at 28 minutes, I think it ends up a little low impact. Basically, it's a cool experience with a couple of *big* warnings.

Of all the bands who were in direct competition with the Beatles, The Kinks are one of the ones that makes the most sense to me. Although I don't necessarily know that this is entirely a good thing. Face To Face sounds like a response to The Beatles' developments in pop music, and the result is a collection of great songs, but it is still a collection of great songs that, at times, has a hard time coming into it's own identity. In my opinions, it's the same problem with some of the earlier Rolling Stones records and certain moments in The Who's discography. Both bands, as well as The Kinks eventually did escape the gravitational pull of The Beatles, and then, in my opinion, start making their most interesting work (a notable exception is The Beach Boys, maybe the only Band playing the same ballgame as The Beatles who ever got them (artistically) against the ropes with Pet Sounds). That being said, this is what you'd think it is, it's a slightly psychedelic, lushly produced, and well written pop and rock album of it's time. The long and short of it is that The Kinks were keeping pace, but I don't think they had really cemented their legacy or defined themselves in the way that they would on future records. Although, my overall impression here is positive. Ray Davies can still write some great pop songs, and The aesthetic is very enjoyable. Its a solid listen.

I'm on quite the hot streak. I think this may be the greatest funk album ever, it perfrctly captures the genre's joy and anger and hope into a singular moment of perfection. This is a collection of some of the hardest driving, most exciting funk ever put to record. This is re order with such power and clarity that it feels like every instrument is leaping out of the speakers at you. And, somehow, this doesn't muddy things up. The guitars, bass, horns *and* vocals *all* feel like theyre stabbing you, its incredible. The sound of this album is raw and alive, full of life and energy. Songs like Thank You For Talkin' To Me, Africa and Family Affair have some of the best bass grooves ever written. Sly is clipping the mic on (You Caught Me) Smilin' and Luv N' Haight. Time manages to overcome it's strangeness and become genuinely tender. Even the yodeling and unstoppable funk rhythms of Spaced Cowboy work here. Every song is just unbelievably good. As I said, this is probably my favorite funk album ever. And, honestly, I can't even really tell you why. It all just works. It's symbolic of it's genre while managing to stand completely on it's own. It's energy is undeniable. It's grooves are generational. There's A Riot Goin' On is just plain genius.

This is kind of the big one for me. This is, in my opinion, one of the greatest, most daring, most singular rock albums of the '60s. The formula here is so simple, but in this simplicity, it finds itself foretelling the arrival of punk in such a unique way. The garage brutality of Iggy Pop and the MC5 gave us one facet of punk. And The Velvet Underground gives us another facet of punk, they lay of the foundation for punk's artsiest tendencies. The Velvets made a fucking *racket* but you don't experience the freeing catharsis of other proto-punk while listening to it. The Velvets were much more interested in making your blood run cold. They know when to quiet down to a beautiful, gossamer sheen on songs like Sunday Morning, Femme Fatale, All Tomorrow's Parties, and I'll Be Your Mirror. But, even when the music is quiet, it's never comfortable. The minimalism undermines the lushness, the blunt flatness of Lou Reed and Nico is offputting, and their transgressive lyrics are occasionally frightening. The result is paranoid, alienating, and still effective in 2026. And when The Velvets really redline the throttle, it's something just as incredible. As the minutes wear by, hard rocking riffs turn to grinding, caveman pummeling on songs like Run Run Run, European Son, The Black Angel's Death Song, and (sort of) I'm Waiting For The Man. But what really sells these songs is The Velvet Underground's secret weapon: John Cale. John Cale's cello is used, basically, as a noise element. The screaming of that cello is one of the things that makes this album exciting, and truly difficult, even now. Lastly, I'd like to mention that the two absolute greatest songs here are where the two sides of The Velvet Underground connect; on Venus In Furs and Heroin. Both are the most transgressive and exciting moments on the album. Venus In Furs is an ominous, shimmering drone, the lyrics are about BDSM, it was released in 1967. It's an incredible song. Heroin has both a steady pulse, and a monumental build. It collapses into an insane tom part and the loudest cello ever recorded. The lyrics are a detailed, blunt description of shooting up heroin and feeling your heartrate triple. We still don't really write this type of song about drugs. And, I would like to again say, this was released in 1967. It is an incredible song. If this doesn't sound like a good time, it probably won't be to you. I do think this should be in rock canon, but I don't think there should be an expectation that it be universally adored. But regardless, there is something magnificent and utterly unique about this.

If anyone ever tries to use Time Out Of Mind as evidence that Dylan still had it in the '90s, swiftly remind them that a lot of the success of this album had to do with the fact that he, very much, did not have it. There was a 20+ year slump before this album, and then Dylan kind of has been coasting ever since it came out. It was basically a miracle that Time Out Of Mind is as great as it is. But, deep down, I am glad that Dylan got a really significant late career statement in. It seems fitting that he would find one more blaze of glory in the world of songwriting. This is basically a winding collection of blues-based songs that capture some of Dylan's original magic, and combine it with some elder statesman pathos. The full picture isn't my favorite Dylan album, in fact I'd venture to say it's hardly anyone's favorite Dylan album, but it is thoroughly enjoyable, and of sufficient enough songwriting depth to make things work out. A lot of these songs are really great, Dirt Road Blues, Can't Wait, Million Miles and more are genuinely great Dylan songs. And, he even gets a chance to experiment a little here. Love Sick and Cold Irons Bound both (miraculously) manage to successfully incorporate a reggae feel, and I actually think that they end up as some of the most interesting moments here. And I also feel the need to mention the incredible, sprawling Highlands. His longest song at the time, Highlands' world slowly sprawls and deepens in the enticing, atmospheric way that Dylan's very best songs do. This is probably *still* the best Dylan song since 1975. Unfortunately, I do have a couple of complaints though. It goes without saying that I haven't fully connected with all the songs here, but that's barely a complaint. A more real complaint I have is with Dylan's vocals. When I first put this on, I figured that he had just grown gravely and raspy in his old age. Then, upon looking it up, I realized that he was just in his mid-50s here, which struck me as odd, he sounds like he's pushing 70 here. *Then*, I listened to a little of his much more recent stuff, and I noticed that he was just singing in a much more regular way. So, then it hit me, this album's insane, Tom Waits rasp is just a put on. And it largely sounds fine here, in the context of these dusty, sprawling songs. But knowing the extent to which it *is* put on is definitely distracting, to say the least. Ultimately, Time Out Of Mind is still the best Dylan album released since 1975, there are some great songs, great lyrics, and it just feels like his heart's in it here. Some bizarre vocal decisions aside, Time Out Of Mind serves as an incredible epilogue for Dylan's best era, and it's celebrated for good reason.

I kind of had to waffle and figure out how mad I am at this. I do think this is being earnest, and I don't have anything against Richard Hawley, but "Sinatra impression over boilerplate easy listening revival" is kind of a recipe for music that I just fucking hate. And I would like to say that I *do* like Sinatra himself. But when a modern artist tries to do the same thing, it just sits wrong with me. I also think that the songs here have too little movement to be interesting, and too little innovation to be groundbreaking. I also can't really connect with any of these songs emotionally, at least to an extent that would help me get into this thing. I really can't see who this is for aside from people who listen *exclusively* to easy listening and countrypolitan. The Ocean is probably the best here, even though it ends up a little melodramatic. And I think I Sleep Alone and Tonight are also alright, but they are still kind of a slog. But everything else just has me watching the clock as it melts into an unspecific puddle of easy listening goop. I feel a little bad, because I do think Hawley is doing what he likes, but I just dont enjoy spending time listening to this.

Not my favorite Neil Young, but Rust Never Sleeps has several of my favorite Neil Young songs. I pretty much think that My My, Hey Hey(Out Of The Blue), Thrasher, Ride My Llama, Sedan Delivery, and Hey Hey, My My(Into The Black) are perfect. Thrasher is a chorus-less, Dylan-esque sprawl with some incredibly striking lyrics ("It was then that I knew I'd had enough
Burned my credit card for fuel Headed out to where the pavement turns to sand"). Ride My Llama is a surreal folk masterpiece. Sedan Delivery is an ultra dynamic, poetic take on straight up punk. And Out Of The Blue and Into The Black bookend the album in one of the smartest moves in rock history. Rust Never Sleeps slowly gradiates from the haunted hush of the former, to the blistered, scorched, sand-blasted latter. Collectively, they capture the album's two furthest extremes and are, in my opinion, the defining songs here. I will say though, while the remaining songs are good, I have yet to learn to love them the same way. I'm pretty close with Sail Away, which is ultimately a gorgeous folk rock song. I'm also pretty close with Powderfinger, which captures the unique slow decay of rural America in a really interesting way. For the remaining songs, time will tell. Welfare Mothers rocks pretty hard, but sometimes it's kind of a slog, but I do ultimately kind of like it. And Pocahontas is a great folk song, but the lyrical approach shows a little age. It isn't the most egregious of the songs about Native Americans like it, but it definitely carries some imperfections in the way it handles things. That being said, the last verse drags things into the present and gives it some additional depth. And honestly, the way it re-frames the song is pretty interesting, but I haven't listened enough to put my finger on exactly how to explain it. Rust Never Sleeps has a mix of perfect songs and ones I may yet learn to love. And I really wish I could give it a 4.5, but for now a 4 will do. I do intend to keep this one in my rotation, so if this grows on me, I will change this review.