Part dramatic dream, part sun-soaked soliloquy, part love letter to mid-century pop rock, Midnight Sister have sewn together a wistful, woozy record.
Never does the record come off as grandiose or self-important; it’s just that good, and it’s just that much fun. Not a masterpiece, but a master at work.
Unabashedly grim, but reassuringly gentle. The album's striking cover art of a menacing but fragile old man is a good indicator of what to expect.
Relentless and unpredictable, the album's like the spawn of a Satanic ritual in a theme park. It’s oppressive and challenging, but also warm and charming.
The harmonies are wonderful, the instrumentation is charming, and, well, everything sounds rather bloody marvellous. Lots to love and little to dislike.
There is a huge amount of musical and lyrical ingenuity to enjoy here, with strong messages, jovial piss takes, and Joe Talbot as the megaphoned town crier.
It seems that a template was drawn up and filled in ten times over, such that every track sounds like the last, only wearing a different hat.
A sumptuously produced blend of folk, post-rock, and psychedelia, all with a smokey stoner sheen. When it gets rolling the grooves are irresistible.
The album is so delicate that it feels too fragile for its own good. It’s like a frozen wildflower - beautiful, but could shatter at any moment.
A pleasant, consistent, and enjoyable listen. Here’s hoping Nas and Hit Boy build on their clear chemistry with a follow-up.