Portland’s Mo Troper is all sorts of snide. Not in the contemptible sense of the word that has seen legions of snot-nosed mommy’s boys running to tell teacher, but in the sort of cunning, intelligent Belle and Sebastian way that he tells his pitiable little stories in the most absolutely decorous of manners.
As such we see tracks such as I Eat (see below) adorn the slightest of hazy, jangle inflected power-pop with heart wrenching tales of depression. Similarly the soon to be jangle-pop classics (think Miracle Legion riffs filtered through a classic-pop bias) such as Your Boy (also below), ignites the album’s prevalent concept of unrequited love, before quickly it rapidly descends into a more sinister obsessive nature, amid the more traditional guitar pop of Almost Full Control and Come and Get Me.
Natural Beauty, his third album, is Troper at his inimitable sweet and sour best and really is one of those rare album’s that is so redolent with intelligence that your personal different nuances of meaning are revealed with every listen.