On this record we get both kinds of weather. "Ink Circle" introduces itself with a guitar blare that glares like a blinding sun before settling in a hazy groove that is part blurry basement boogie and icy bedroom psych. Wah-wah oozes fluorescently while Jason Henn's voice smears a mentholated salve over a whispering ghost. Later that day, "Telephone Betty's Aneurysm" gives a farmhand a reason to shirk his field duties to zone on in the meadow and think about Mersybeat country western music.
The sparse and wobbly choppiness of "Paper Car" has a parched feeling until halfway through when cold clangs condense a crystallized mist. "The Calvin Coolidge Clarion" closes the record with a march that heads out of spring sunset into an autumn evening.