"Singing about panic attacks, refugees, religion and young, bearded, hipster girlfriend thieves."
If you can get past the self-deprecating cover with Kay-Smith as a leather-jacketed, sunglass-wearing and sax-tootin' dude, then you'll find a whole range of styles on show with this LP.
The songs are either Harry Nilsson-styled piano barroom tales, Jack White keening blues, Dylan-esque wordplay or loose-hip Stones-y rock'n'roll. It all adds up to a varied album, and yes, there is a hint of pastiche about it all, but for the most part Kay-Smith places his songs in the present day — singing about panic attacks, refugees, religion and young, bearded, hipster girlfriend thieves. He's gathered a great group of players on an album that perhaps lacks depth by way of its delivery, yet is still an entertaining listen.