The epithet above the lyrics
inside the sleeve sums up the CD's concept succinctly: "A good person is some one who
hasn't been caught." Pedro the Lion (David Bazan) writes first-person accounts,
confessions and explanations, all unregretfully sung straight from the attacker's mouth
(most of the lyrics are surrounded by quotes). These are macabre portraits of murder and
violence, justified by necessity with only a hint of regret. Each deed told is met with a
clear conscience of a man who feels his motives are misunderstood. Creepy? Maybe, except
that Bazan makes the songs so arresting and, at times, downright danceable that they're
impossible to ignore. His low, sullen voice recalls Mark Kozelek (Red House Painters) or
Mark Eitzel (American Music Club) and convincingly adds the necessary pathos that
compliments the stripped-down arrangements (Bazan plays all the instruments). Half the
songs are slow, folkish dirges, the other half are indie-guitar-driven rock songs. All are
arresting.
If these are portraits of emotional crime scenes, we're not the rubberneckers driving
by slowly, looking for traces of blood. We're the reporters, listening to statements by an
antagonist who considers himself the victim already found guilty, trying to convince us of
his innocence.
"A Mind of Her Own" is a husband arguing with his wife, beginning with
"Dear, unlock the door," and ending with "You put down that
telephone/You're not calling anyone," sung over shimmering, pounding guitar.
"Never Leave a Job Half Done" opens just after the narrator has killed his wife
or lover, justifying his crime with "She almost ruined everything." Grim, but
thoroughly danceable. "Eye on the Finish Line" is another murder tale of a
criminal with "a clear conscience" who fears his motives will be misconstrued,
even by the victim. "Given the time I think she would have understood/That it was for
the greater good."