The coat bed: it’s the bed at a party where everyone tosses their jackets. It’s also—if you’ll allow an obtuse analogy (they’re a dime a dozen, ’round here)—where you might imagine yourself when you’re listening to this album: in the bed, buried under the coats. There’s a weight on you, but it’s soft. You can hear the party, though it’s muffled. You could get up and join everyone, but it’s convincingly comfortable under those coats.
Beliefs is the sort of record you have to listen to all the way through three times before you can start to enjoy it—not to pick up subtleties, necessarily; the multiple spins are to train your ears. It takes considerable effort (at first, at least) to hear past the ever-present buzz of Beliefs’ guitars. There are sad-sack pop songs in here—think The Diableros meets Hawaii—and you’ll find them, eventually, like that time you found the schooner in the Magic Eye poster.
Destined for year-end top-ten lists, for sure. Check out “Lilly” down below.