We’d always put The Mountain Goats’ appeal down to the inherent loneliness, fragile tragedy and ultimately the optimism exhibited by John Darnielle’s detail-crammed compositions – exemplified by the very fact that they were performed under the auspices of privacy, recalling as they did personal journeys, stolen moments from a childhood, and uncooked emotions conveyed eloquently. The blinds, we felt, were always down. They worked particularly well when you were under no misconception that this was a band (even though for many years there have been collaborators, a twinkle of piano here, a pedal-steel flourish there, maybe even some strings to heighten the emotion and shuffling drums turning the momentum over), but rather the heart, soul and sharpened tongue of one man alone. Well, seems we were wrong after all. Or at least while we were right about the value of his personal expressions, musical and lyrical, The Mountain Goats as a band are no poor, rejected sibling of the only child we knew previously.
It feels finally that he’s got around to spending some of 4AD’s cash. This is an album that retains the minutiae and exploratory depth of the former records we fell in love with, but conveyed this time through full-blooded arrangements with instrumentalists vying to put their marks on tracks. The drums on the opening ‘Sax Rohmer #1’, when they kick in, break through like a heart that has just discovered the joys of beating, and the sense that ‘Heretic Pride’ is absolutely head-out-of-the-window-of-a-speeding-car alive is carried on through the juddering title track and especially the stark riffing ‘Lovecraft In Brooklyn’. Even on ‘San Bernardino’, with its solitary staccato guitar and understated string quartet accompaniment, we’re feeling much more concert hall pride than bolted door privacy. And of course the durability of his poetic expression is assured, lyrics as beautifully lucid and compellingly dramatic as they have always been. “I’m out of my element / I can’t breathe” he sings on ‘How To Embrace A Swamp Creature’ – fragility set to a bold signature.