We can hope that The Roches know how good this record feels, but it’s best not to be so serious. The writing hits like an inner monologue down a small-town street: heel taps, lamp-swings, and finger clicks. By imbuing the record with a golden age, ‘this country ain’t what it used to be’ spirit, the heartbreak and humour surface organically. On one song, the sisters visit Ireland during the troubles: “I hope they have health food in Dublin, and strawberry apricot pie, if they don’t have those things in Dublin, we’ll probably die.” Perfect. I found this album recently. I could not believe how much I liked it.
A favourite: ‘Hammond Song’