Steve Barton made a name for himself in the legendary underground band Translator. The group released a quartet of appealing albums in the early-to-mid 1980s and the group still manages a few shows now and again. Since that time Barton has also released a quartet of records including Flicker of Time and The Boy Who Rode His Bike Around the World.
This collection, written after the death of his father, finds Barton in strong form, making a record that is homespun, unpretentious and a reminder of his full powers. The nakedness is sometimes unnerving, akin to having a front row seat to the collapse and reverb of someone’s psyche, their angst, their grief. But that is, ultimately, what makes this album fantastic. It’s tempting to call this Nevermind for adults — it’s informed by an intensely universal and yet intensely private pain — but, in truth, this record is peerless, unique and more than welcome.