Nuthin' better than the sound of fingernails on a chalkboard! So imagine having a bulldozer taking care of the screeching! That's pretty much what you get for a whole ten minutes on the opening Sleep June Slope. This track alone is one of the most unbearable Birchville Cat Motel songs I've ever heard and God knows I've heard a few. Things do calm down slightly on the next track, Seven Paper Lanterns, but then again, that all depends on your tolerance of sinewave drones. Like hundreds of people playing wine glasses for hours on end, the irritability factor burst through the roof for some listeners. The song settles down slightly towards the middle mark and familiar sounds surface here and there (those locust noises have appeared elsewhere before). The title track is the only bearable track here and it alone makes this album a worthwhile purchase. Very haunting and dreamy soundscape which reminds me a bit of Naked City's work on Absinthe.