The record listens like rock music’s answer to an ice-cold six-pack of decentish lager. It’s unrefined, but a cheap and cheerful good time.
Ellie Rowsell’s drift between spoken-word musings and operatic soarings is alive and well, and the band as a whole is as simpatico as ever - if not moreso.
The early 1970s was a golden era for singer-songwriters, but this stands alongside the best. The beauty of Mitchell’s songwriting lies in its simplicity.