I expect you think that I should be haunted
Today's sole redeeming feature has been the discovery of the Decemberists' "The Rake's Song," a reasonably hard-rocking murder ballad. The circumstances of its album's conception—inspired by Anne Briggs, going to feature Robyn Hitchcock—also make me happy, but right now not as much as singing headbangingly about infanticide.

no subject
Somehow I'd missed when it was released. If it's representative of the album, The Hazards of Love is going to be genius.