I have a sneaking suspicion that these guys don't wear shoes and socks. Their style is a Pacific Ocean-ripened variety of that thing that everybody calls alt.country as though it's a label that makes some kind of sense. The Antiques sound a lot like the Byrds, or rather, they sound like they've listened to a hell of a lot of the Byrds, particularly when it comes to vocal harmonies. Lapsteel guitar slides all over song after solidly-constructed song. They're not afraid of the piano and the Hammond organ, either. Twentyfirstcentury potheaded California countryfied rock. The whole album clips along at much the same easy, no-hurry-but-let's-not-go-too-slow pace without once sliding anywhere near boring, but without really raising the excitement level anywhere much above contented. I mean that as a compliment. This is really good music written and played by people who know what they're doing and know they don’t have to show off to please you, that their musicianship is there to aid and interpret the songwriting, not vice versa. "Dead Ringer" is a particular highlight, vamping guitars, building piano parts, loud-softs, the whole kit and kaboodle tossed together to a very pleasing effect. Try not to nod your silly noggin to "Stars Are out in the Attic". But when it comes down to it, pick any song, because there ain't a thing shitty about this record, and I'll even forgive them for not wearing shoes and socks. Assuming they don’t wear them.