My Dear Machine

If you give up a lot, you get to come back a lot, too, and every comeback, even if you know things are never going to turn out the way you want them to, is a blessing and a promise. From the first few dirty notes on that Rhodes piano to the horns (must be John Painter on those, no?), Sixpence announces its intent to kick ass. Sixpence is not a band that does a lot of ass-kicking, as a rule, but they can when they want to, though not so much with distortion and anger as with melody and arrangement. The fist-pumping energy of "My Dear Machine" doesn't come from shouted self-righteousness -- not even from an encouraging declaration like, say "Moving On" with its "I will not let them ruin me" refrain. It's the energy of the earth and the spirit, the shoots ascending for the rebirth, the careful husbanding of a craft left to rust.

It was LL Cool J, Google tells me, who said "Don't call it a comeback." But I say, always call it a comeback. Always come back.