Enter the Winter
The one thing Enter the Winter makes perfectly clear is that Nat Baldwin is in love with his voice. Setting aside the two short instrumental pieces “Spells” and “X-Factor,” the disc is rendered completely unlistenable thanks to Baldwin’s whines and moans. It might be a completely different beast if words were actually escaping his mouth, but the mush-mouth lyric-less delivery is like a brick wall set to destroy the fluid movement of his string-section compositions. Although much less experimental than cello-based contemporaries like Hangedup, Baldwin and his backing band deserve a chance to be heard on their own terms, with minimal distraction. Of the vocal tracks, only “Within Walls” feels like a full-fledged song. On it Baldwin comes down from his drunken angel cloud, pulls his act together and sings in tune and with a melody. Coupled with the driving drums, it’s the album’s standout, but too little to prevent the rest from plunging into obnoxiousness.
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