This Way Out

Caroline Records

I can hear this echoing through an empty penitentiary or amusement park. Kind of that eeriness of abandonment thing, with a sullen, rained on set of free weights ominously perched in the foreground. Singer Jeff Martin could be on his deathbed, or on the way to the gas chamber, or just back from the dentist it's hard to tell. This album, much like the previous effort, hides the frayed wires under the rug and it shocks you while remaining soft. The Bruce Jenner of lethargy-rook a blurry red exit sign in an ancient theater filled with slow-leaking mustard gas, like John Carpenter's vaudeville in “Escape From New York". Idaho knows the way out,

Spike Vrusho