Even the album's best moments won't be enough to convince anyone that Let's Whisper should have left the bedroom.
You can't really hold the twee tendencies of Let's Whisper against them; writing cute, humble little songs about cute, precious little things is sort of the point. When listening to The Shortest Days, however, what is troubling is just how inert it all sounds. There are moments where Let's Whisper is pushing the energy, adding fast-paced beats to guitars that sound like the sensitive side of The Cure, but something about the production makes it sound like every different element is happening in a different room, giving the whole album a weird disembodied feel, rather than the intimate feel that would have been more appropriate in this situation. Add to this odd feel an unfortunate, thin male vocal sound that only succeeds in pointing out just how lovely the female vocal is and an offbeat album opener that attempts to recast The Beach Boys' "California Girls" as a twee anthem and you have an album that sounds pleasant, but whose unevenness distracts all too often. Occasionally, it works perfectly, as on the super cute waiting-room musing that is "Evy and Sarah", but these moments won't be enough to convince anyone that Let's Whisper should have left the bedroom.