The final takeaway is a dark poem to the one that got away, one that is equal parts self-humiliation, catharsis, and defeatism.

Its all poise and posture and expectation, the assembly of a perfect weekend with the building blocks of friendship, mystery, and attraction.

A confident hand measures the doses of acoustic guitar, a fluttering pulse-driven electric bass, and the vocal pills of a beautifully understated duet.

Its a walk in the afternoon sunshine; in the style of an Elliott Smith, Alex Siegel makes groove entirely out of a guitar strum and the barest of drum kits.

Its a chamber pop sensibility and the lyrical style of a jazz crooner on his fourth Scotch-with-1-ice-cube.

Its a bouncy synth-soul groove, and razor sharp vocals, with a deep respect for the power of single-note piano lines.

Its a gorgeous harmony that sets up the chorus turn, and the narrative theme seems to continue the process of self-invention, creating new twists as the song progresses.

This sounds to me like a chorus from a Kid Rock song with funk vocals from JJ Grey. Its a party, plain and simple, with lots of beer and octave pedals.