You get the feeling that Lupen Crook could be huge if he decided to play the gentle, acoustic, haunting songs that so many of the songs on this album begin with. Cackle And The Crown leads you into a false sense of security before his band The Murderbirds break into some power chords. Matthew’s Magpie is the highlight of the album, a weird demented conversation between a man and a magpie that switches comfortably between punk rock and acoustic pop although it’s joined by the epic New Orleans sound of Staghead And Monster, with Lupen’s tortured and tormented persona coming across like Alex Harvey. “Well if the shirts are off, you can count me out” he wails on Summer Time, admitting he prefers winter. It’s all pretty bleak with a dark humour underlying all the songs. Recorded in the basement of a former Brothel, it’s one of the most lo-fi records you’ll hear. However, while there are moments of genius evident here, this album, at less than 30 minutes, is probably more than you’ll ever need to listen to in one sitting from Lupen Crook.
