Sean Tillman’s one strange guy. His latest thing seems to be the unification of the sensitive 70s loverman archetype with the rock bombast that I imagine most of said lovermen were reacting to, all without straying too far from the modern-day indiepop designated smoking area. But who really knows what he thinks he’s doing? My hesitation to buy this abated the moment I saw the front/back cover art: shots of Sean riding and tending to horses on a farm, wearing a suede jacket and a plaid shirt unbuttoned a bit too far. It’s wrong, wrong, wrong, and someone who’d release a record looking like that clearly wouldn’t have qualms about borrowing whatever musical tools he needed to round out his cute, catchy songs.