is the handsome if dark-eyed offspring of the deliberately melodic LP and 's more raucous earlier work. Whether or not the band "sold out" (or whatever) when arrived with the stamp of ambitious indie , the set nevertheless seemed forced. For , replaces behind the kit, joining the grating-like-gouda voices and ringing guitars of and on 's second outing. It's an album that kills with catchiness. Though details the steps a jilted lover would take to off him, 's melodic sensibility is hard not to hum along to. Similarly, the triumphant final key change of makes its bitter farewell to a suicide victim easier to swallow. This dichotomy between deathly fascination and darn-right sensibility continues throughout . Despite making one take a few extra looks at the black and red lyric booklet, it also points to 's newfound confidence to weave its tortured pathos untreated into hair shirts for teenagers everywhere. The laughs continue with which features the classic couplet "You crashed your car through the front door/I pulled you from the wreckage/You told me that you missed me/But you meant with the grill and hood." Unlike their doe-eyed - peers, 's take on true love is closer to love-hate. is a snow angel in a blizzard of -fueled melody, where the dried blood looks black on the nighttime snowpack. Finally, a glimmer of hope shines from a crack in the mortuary curtains. closes with the plaintive acoustic number The song's last line is a grudging request, but one that admits the faults of both parties, and accepts them as a better reality than the death wishes, dour proclamations, and damning dreams of sunlight that dominate the majority of the record. But even as the coffin closes, anthemic melody reflects in the blood pooled on the floor. ~ Johnny Loftus