Didn't someone refer to this as the best album ever, or some such
hyperbole?  After one listen, I'd give it an award for one of the more
sleep-inducing albums I've heard in quite awhile, but that's about it.  A
coupla songs stand out from the monotonous morass ("Chickasaw County Jail"
and Iris singing "Acres of Corn"), but most of it's too damn stately and 
antiseptic for its own good.  I bet even Kinnamon balks at this.--don

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