★ ★ ★ ★ ☆
At just over an hour, this album never feels overly padded. It's filled with terrific musicianship, cutting lyrics, nostalgia, and gentle humor. At times, the lyrics crackle with wit, with lines like "sitting on his lap / taking his dictation." And the snarl of the anti-Thatcher screed "Mother Knows Best" is as surprising and agile as Dylan. Other times, Thompson takes a darker turn, as in "Grey Walls," about a mental hospital. What's impressive is how he keeps it catchy even while decrying the horrors of ECT. Musically, the songs showcase a wide variety of tempos and styles (the credits include some very obscure and archaic instruments), which keeps things interesting. Favorite tracks: "Read About Love," which chronicles a young lad's first exposure to sex in magazines; "1952 Vincent Black Lightning," a modern folk song centered around a coveted motorcycle; "I Feel so Good," narrated by a cad out to break some hearts; "Don't Sit on My Jimmy Shands," about demanding be allowed a turn to play his Scottish reel records (Find a lap or find a chair / You can park it anywhere / Just don't rest your cheeks against my man!").
