"James Pants’s self-titled third album on Stones Throw slides among dispositions — woozy guitarscapes, octave-jumping disco bass lines, electro, doo-wop, cheap and dated keyboard tinklings, confrontational shouts bobbing in reverb. He’s a disorienting one-man band, playing every instrument, even saxophone, and a record-spinner at heart … There are lots of tunes lodged in this record. The tracks seem to have hidden reserves, pockets within pockets; they develop hooks in weird places. Sweetness suddenly emerges out of fuzzy slime, and startling emotions rise from merely cool ones." User-contributed text is available under the Creative Commons By-SA License; additional terms may apply.