Man, Ian Moore’s got the studio work down. I have absolutely no idea how he got his guitar to scream so evil and damned on “Time of Dying.” There’s little tricks all over this album, little licks and fills which give it depth and weight.

His bio tells me that I’m supposed to be impressed, because Moore “radiates intelligence.” Yes, there is something more than straight rock on this disc. But please—it’s hard not to notice the generic drum machine sounds. And when he embodies bizarre eclecticism, which to be fair, is nearly everywhere, he segues down into an intolerable chorus—his Achilles Heel. Were it not for the invention of the chorus, this album would be all the more tenacious.

But I can’t explain my way out of “Time of Dying,” either. It’s bizarrely wicked, like an exploding Catholic Cathedral, and out of nowhere he drops in a military beat, then follows the whole thing up with an R&B falsetto ballad which doesn’t follow any rules. It reminds me a little of New York folksinger Oren Bloedow.

And then there is “Oceansize.” It sends shivers all over my spine! It might be Scottish influenced, then again it might be Goth. Hell, parts of it sound like circus tent accompaniment. Get the idea? There’s filler on this album, but when he’s on point, Ian Moore’s music is weird.