Weaving like a fighter, floating not drunken but like a butterfly in a vat of sweet brine, Sic Alps bring you 23 of the nearest misses we've heard recently, each one lopped off, all strung out together, with one filtered through another, sighted shadowy through worn fabric, trapdoors leading to yet another, and another, where Sic Alps have conceived of an everything must go-go sale, a non-stop shaking fit of smears, blears, blues and ballads in medley form — no, what it is, is "Vedley."
