This is what you get when you take two American sisters writing and recording an album in a small Paris flat with no hot water. It’s a collection of frail, fractured songs with a fine collection of found sounds - frogs (quite possibly), throat clearing, and water dripping on a saucepan lid (definitely), to list but a few. The overall effect of that, and their crackling voices, is eerie but there’s always a strong melody to carry them through. Mind you, Sara said listening to it was her idea of hell.
But if more than 25 per cent of Americans had passports and used them for this sort of thing, rather than relying on tanks to get them into foreign countries, perhaps the world would be a better place. In this case, their travel has certainly broadened my mind.
28.2.05
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