A little more taut and angular than their previous lps, this is a grand slide into the subtle beauty of Swell. No other band have clatter and harmony like them; they've captured a sound that is theirs, and theirs alone. From "Swell", to "...Well", to "41", to "Too Many Days..." and on, they've walked a unique track, well off the beaten path. With sublime melding of acoustic and electric guitar, this is just one of the great lost albums from a band who've undeservedly almost been forgotten in the rush to find the next, and the next, big thing. Not for them the tired, formulaic "quiet, loud, quiet" template, Swell swim in atmospherics, letting each song ride its own wave. The more straightforward tracks on here, like "Throw The Wine", still have a stoned drift that carries the listener through both the blackest night and the sunniest afternoon; the choice is yours. David Freel's lyrics mine an odd, disconnected Bukowski/Burroughs landscape, tales of shiftless days and drugged, drunken evenings, with only your heart as companion. All these stories and sounds lead you finally to "Everyday Sunshine" which is, perhaps, the best song ever committed to tape: A burgeoning, swelling, gently driving thing of absolute beauty, describing frozen moments from a car crash, flowing on a current of sound...And then it stops, leaving you wanting more, Press repeat and listen to the whole record again. Keep it rolling through your mind, let it swamp you with its warmth. Then go find all their other records. Swell, are...well...swell.