11
Look I’m Pink Floyd or something. For his third solo album, Sprout returns to the whole kiddie-themed thing (circuses and carnivals, oh boy!) I’m not really sure if this guy just ran out of ideas, or was going for something different, but this album just runs out of steam about two tracks in. Seriously, he may have blown his load on his first two solo albums, after being stifled by Bob Pollard for all those years. His “I’ll show him!” turned into an “Oh, crap, I’m out of ideas.” There are actually a few embarrassing songs on here, like “Liquor Bag,” which sounds like a duet with a drunk Tom Petty. And the rest of the album just kind of blends into itself and becomes a puddle of mush. Now I know how George Harrison must have felt.
