Damn it, Damn it, Damn it! What the hell is going on with Will Oldham on this record? I am convinced he has crumpled up three word poems that are better this album. With the exception of “Cravo E Canela” this album is pure hell to listen too. I’m not sure why. Will Oldham’s presence alone should be enough to make this record great, but alas it is not. Here are my two theories: The first is that this is all Tortoise’s fault. Though that would be kind of harsh and a little out of line for me to say, because I have never heard any of their music other then this record, but I will tell you that it makes me not want to find out anything more about them. Theory two: the source material sucks. It seems like you have a genius and a handycappable student in a three legged race to try their collective damnedest to polish ten fresh baked ass loafs. Make sure you have all the Will Oldham records before you get this one. Well, better yet, every time you feel the need to buy this record stick that money in a piggy bank. When that bank is full, go treat yourself to a steak. You’ve earned it.