In 2001, you could not get more low-key and D.I.Y. in your packaging than this release, placed not in a jewel case but a black-and-white envelope, with no musician or songwriting credits. The music, too, was basic, though not without homespun charm. Accompaniment was usually limited to tinny acoustic ukulele and accordion; the amateurish but appealing vocals (all female) had a playing-for-a-few-friends-in-the-living-room feel. Answering machine messages were inserted once in a while, sometimes accompanied by some very live-sounding giggles. In short, it was the kind of music that showed up on many cassette-only releases in the 1980s, and still was to some degree a couple of decades down the line. Maybe it would have been best appreciated as a D.I.Y. cassette rather than a CD. But actually it wasn't bad in its naïve art way, akin to many early releases on the K label. The vocals have a high winsomeness, like that of someone singing bedtime tales for adults. Of course you wouldn't be singing songs titled "Our Bad Sex" and "Fuck You" for kiddies, not in most households, anyway. This is indie pop folk art in the truest sense: people singing songs for themselves and close friends, peopled with the kind of mundane everyday concerns and stream-of-consciousness thoughts that are considered too mundane for commercial artists to bother with. That means there's an unprofessionalism that a lot of people won't be able to get past, but at the same time modest rewards for those who want to hear music (which is reasonably melodic, though not memorably so) without artifice. ~ Richie Unterberger