“Like trudging through drifts, 50 Words can be a frustrating listen, where dour piano motifs have the edge over catharsis.”
Like trudging through a laboured simile based on the album title being about snow, this review is like walking through brown snow, 2 days after it stopped snowing, with all the snow melting and mixing with the brown crap mud. 2 days since it snowed, and snowballs won’t stay together. A stark landscape, where the joy of snow has been replaced with the freezing, slippery reality of your frozen wet feet and pointless cold life.
