This album is 1970s: psychedelic, moving between pop song, funeral dirge, and chaotic climax. It deals very poetically with Love, War, Technology, and History. It has a feel to it that is very discernible, and that is the most pleasant thing about Bill Fay. He loves his songs, and he crafts them, sculpts them without a trace of indifference. Like a true bard, Fay has stuffed this album with historical allusions, literary references, and elegant language: But it is done so tastefully that the listener feels he or she has learned something from this album without straining to remember school lessons.
His is one of the five albums I keep in the car I hardly ever drive, for years now: not once have I given someone a lift that they did not ask who it was with positive interest.
All of his work is worthwhile, but this one is very special. Apocalyptic, loving: Bill Fay is the most soothing doomsayer there ever was. About half of the songs are directly influenced by an old religious text Mr. Fay reports to have picked up at a church jumble sale. So be warned of many Christian elements. Yet I tell you, any person who heard this album would say no way in Hell that it was praise music. Folk music, psych-pop, a little bit of R&B in the horn section... But most of all it is an artist singing about the things that reach the farthest over our existence, that destroy us most thoroughly; and how we must find good in the horror we do, truly, to ourselves.