Arab Strap is similar to Nick Cave or Tindersticks in its timbre and its taste for ennui, but lacking in pretension and bombast. These simple and understated pieces are like the soundtrack from an endless rainy afternoon, and even when the guitars rise up and roar (as in the head-nodding groove of "New Birds") the disc still retains its sense of quiet intimacy. Aidan Moffat's vocals barely rise above a whisper and only occasionally fall into a melody.
Like Charles Bukowski and like the flatly painted nudes on the cover, Arab Strap are unflinchingly frank about drinking and sexing and all the messy parts that go with it. All of the humor, pathos and sadness come from the truth of the telling. All is not dreariness, though; there are times when the music rises up poignantly ("Soaps") and other moments when the lyrics do the same ("Islands"). This disc is not for the faint of heart. It is, however, deeply moving and compelling.|
Rovi