Smokey Lungs And Dirty Puns
Independent
A sleepy-voiced Devendra Banhart, or more rustic Edwyn Collins, David Craft has produced an evocative and hypnotic EP in Smokey Lungs And Dirty Puns. There’s a thematic ambition evident from the opening two-parter Boozy (Part 1 a hazy whisper, Part 2 awash with ethereal guitars and brisk brushes). The energy continues to ramp on the anthemic, bittersweet summer jam, Sell My Songs which I’m certain will one day make it into an ad, for better or worse.
Smokey Lungs starts to slow on Human Stain, a Crowded House-esque throwaway which bustles along pleasantly enough without quite leaving much of an impression, and finally the lovely, bright melancholy of the title track, reminiscent of Alex Turner’s work on the Submarine soundtrack.
Perhaps the most impressive element of this EP is its coherence – the material doesn’t seem to just be his five best songs, but a collection that belongs together and there’s a unity to his tales of a relationship neither party seems 100 per cent sure of. That, and his lazy yet robust baritone, really sets David Craft apart.
CHARLIE LEWIS
