That right there is a brush with disaster. Usually someone at this point maybe even the same person who blurted the idea out will correct himself or herself. Really, why write 30 mediocre songs when with a little whittling, some hard work, and embracing the challenge of songwriting all those songs which could just keep coming out with ease will be narrowed to ten, twelve, maybe even fifteen solid great songs. To get to the point in defense of the genre is so watered down, so feverishly put together, with songs running into bizarre tangents, that despite the impressive production, the range and power of Max Bemis’ voice, and the truly interesting arrangement of the songs, the album overshoots its target.

When you have 27 songs to play with at any given point you can do whatever you want. Any idea you have might as well be used there are so many songs you can do no wrong. All perspective on what is happening with each song is lost, or at least it is here.
Some will say this record needs to grow on you, others will call it art or genius. I guess I can humor those people and call myself a purist and call this album selfish and slightly schizophrenic which may not be very nice considering the admitted and documented mental illness of the primary song writer. It’s a frustrating listen, all the elements are there, solid parts, great hooks, and brilliant riffs, but with this now the second release from Say Anything they may be feeling like there is no one to please this time around.

The structure and cohesion of the individual songs and the especially the quality of the album as a whole has been swallowed up by indulgence. Possibly working without limitations on this record in the end has created a monster with the head of a genius the ears of a visionary but the attention span of a 5 year old. Say Anything forgot there is always someone to please, mainly the listener.