That's it! He's lost me. The new direction Banhart has taken with Cripple Crow has been blow up and away (and to smithereens) on this album and the results are... well... quite disappointing. This is the first time I find that the weak tracks outnumber the great ones. Whatever happened to bizarre yet homogenous vibe of the early solo albums? Smokey [...] sounds like Banhart is trying to tackle all his influences without a formula. Some Elvis here, some Perez Prado there, a touch of The Beatles and I even think there's a dab of Engelbert Humperdinck in there somewhere. The saccharine, breezy feel of the record sounds way too trite and banal at times. I wouldn't be surprised if this album found it's way into a few retirement homes around the continent (no pun intended). A huge disappointment to these ears; to the point where I feel I'll be hesitating when confronted with further purchases. A bit more focus please!