The fact that “I Don’t Always Know What You’re Saying” was recorded in a ramshackle in the tundra of British Columbia brings to my mind the word “unsupervised.” For all the enthusiasm embodied by best moments here, there is an accompanying sense that Ladyhawk suffer from the lack of a guiding hand. I’m not talking about any domineering overhauls (at least not on this cut), just someone to tactfully inject some accurate and helpful outside perspective. Maybe this paternal figure could say, in a smooth, comforting voice, something like: “You’re a little too Layne Staley in the first couple bars there, Duffy.” Or: “The drums kinda take a shit right before the first chorus, huh, fella?” Or: “Really only half of that last minute qualifies as an actual ‘guitar solo.’”

Because to record a track as sloppy as this on an album called Shots is to make certain album contexts fairly clear. In fact, recording sloppy tracks is a tightrope proposition even when you’re not shitcanned. With just enough jangly influence swapping it’s an “indie-rocker,” and people throw it on while they tap the second keg of Natty Light in the unfinished basement of their shitty college ramshackle. Too much jangle though, and the screws unthread and begin to fall out. Nonsensical genre names (folk-metal? Indie-grunge?) swim through our synapses before we decide that it’s really not worth the effort to think about it that much and we go back to measuring to see who loves that Vampire Weekend album more. So though it’s certainly not a truism, here’s a piece of post hoc guidance from a disinterested third party; sometimes when cutting a party album it’s best not to be as drunk as the people at the party.

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