Neil "The Hag" Hagerty rocks his magic sh!t stick and once again departs leaving his sloprock extoplasm dripping from your amps, speakers, stage and dancefloor. You feel used and wrong but like a sun has exploded in your head metamorphing itself into a swirling cloud of chirping cartoon bluebirds, such is the confusing duellist country rock on offer here. It sounds sloppy but it's tight as tickling boxing Helena till she soaks her stumps!
And yes we do need a lesson on being good mates and the deintelectualisement of morbid self obsession by a crazed skag fiend! And to top off theres a nice lazy ending that sounds like the requiem of a beloved snare drum that fell (very slowly) down a canyon.