Everything about the CD (apart from the drums) has been down to Connor himself, which would be impressive if there had been any sign that he had any perspective while he was working. Another pair of ears might have made a difference and added a bit of variation in arrangements and sound; as it is, the CD is like being given a book of colour swatches with nothing but shades of magnolia.
The main let down is the weak, limp sounding vocals which don’t make much impact as they bubble under the main instrumentation. It’s almost as if Conor, when he was writing, producing and mixing the CD himself didn’t have enough confidence in his own vocals to push them further forward in the mix.
The songwriting on the CD is too flat and bland to make any lasting impression either. Self-conscious and snore-worthy acoustic pop, which sounds like striped down rejects from Gigolo Aunts or the Lightning Seeds, shuffles along like a moping teenager. More light and shade is needed to raise this disk from being just dreary, navel gazing. Individually, the tracks could be a relaxing moment in an otherwise upbeat album but as it stands, the 38 minutes of the disk could act as a Valium substitute.
While listening to this, I did indeed come to a standstill. And then nearly slipped into a coma.