I have A LOT of CDs-- probably more than I can ever listen to again in my lifetime, so I have to pick and choose from them. This is one CD that I keep on the top of my piles of CDs so I can always get at it when I want to hear it again.

So, this is what happens when vultures and the desert wind of Southern Utah pick away at the bones of Pop music! \"Summer\" is no romp through green pastures or idyllic meadows. It’s a straight shot through the Valley of the Shadow of Death. But DAMN, does that hot air feel good! Though thoroughly lo-fi, Summer has the immediate intimacy of Bruce Springsteen’s Nebraska. Lonely songs with catchy melodies are haunted by the presence of David Williams’ emotive, fragile voice. It’s both hurried and hushed, whispering warnings from somewhere out there in the bleak remoteness. Williams’ heartbreaking vocals are displayed most beautifully on the sad-bastard folk tune “Shame”. Architecturally, his songs are sturdy enough to hold up Brill Building ornamentation, yet he shows brave restraint. Instead of crowding the sonic space with horns, strings, and trickery, he opts to strip the structure bare, leaving only guitar and voice. Occasionally, fragmented drums and keyboards will sound in the distance, but the music always remains skeletal, ghostly, and sparse. The vastness of the desert has clearly taught Williams about the beauty of openness and contrast. And when a song is good enough, the human voice can sound as grand as an orchestra.