The album can, in fact, be treated as a concept album about the capacity for change that lies at the heart of even the most hard-boiled and unsympathetic of men, the kind we meet straight away on âAinât Niceâ and âToadâ.
When âInto The Sunâ introduces us to a similar figure having a Damascene moment in which he realises the damage he has caused, we realise that we are, in fact, following a single flawed protagonist: an aging huckster who loves nothing but his dog, his drugs and himself. Travelling with this self-sabotaging antihero though his highs and lows, his relapses and revelations, as he rises above his basest impulses to pursue love and a life of peace is a hell of a journey in itself.
âOn All Foursâ is the sound of
Goat Girl stepping into their own. Produced by Dan Care, itâs a little less spiky round the edges than the eponymous debut - a statement equally strident, but considered in its stances and elegant in its rage.
They donât tolerate nonsense when clashing with creeps (âI have no shame when I say step the fuck awayâ tossed out matter-of-factly on opener âPest)â. And thereâs moments of proper musical expansiveness and play: Jazz in the Supermarket serves up wonky, tripped-out funk with post-apocalyptic goggles on. They toy with a bunch of styles and broader instrumentation, even sprinkling disco on its poppier edges. âThey Bite On Youâ smoulders, all vampiric sensuality and moodiest guitar.