A grubby, mostly lo-fi collection of odds and sods swept up from the cutting room floor that retain the
Three Johns' legendary panache, but hit and miss as songs. Sometimes a band, no matter how good, leaves crap behind for a reason, and while this exercise in closet-cleaning is by no means a disaster, it's kind of formless and is nowhere near as ingratiating as their other releases -- many of these tracks deserved to be outtakes. There are some gems ("Is Your Brain Your Own?" leaps to mind), making this an interesting, but ultimately inessential release.