This came out in 2003 – or at least that’s when I got it. Here’s what I said about it back then (with some minor editing):
This fourth album from Tucson indie-desert duo Calexico actually came out back in spring. Normally, that would make it too old for me to review.
But I’m making an exception in this case for a few reasons: 1) The record label just sent it to me; 2) The band are playing in town next week; and, most importantly, 3) Calexico are arguably one of the most unique and intriguing outfits on the scene. Formed around the nucleus of multi-instrumentalists Joey Burns and John Convertino, the ever-evolving musical collective blend a rainbow coalition of influences — Mexican mariachi guitars, spaghetti-western twang, Americana, surf, folk, country, noirish jazz and various ethnic strains — into a dusty, windswept melancholy that is simultaneously evocative of their southwestern home and distinctly exotic. This studio disc, like many of its predecessors, answers the musical question: What would it sound like if Neil Young, Wilco and Tom Waits joined forces with producer Daniel Lanois to record an Ennio Morricone soundtrack?
