We Shall All Be Healed

The things drugs will make us do. That seems to be a theme of the 13 latest surreal, bruised alt-folk vignettes from Mountain Goats protagonist John Darnielle. “We’re all here chewing our tongues off/Waiting for the fever to break,” Darnielle sings on “Letter From Belgium,” describing the frenzy of nothingness that defines a house full of junkies, while a synth careens behind him like it’s looking for directions to the nearest Flaming Lips album. “Palmcorder Yajna” describes a similar scene—tweaking on crystal meth at a shabby Travelodge—with Darnielle’s imagistic yelps overcome by self-loathing: “If anybody comes into our room while we’re asleep/I hope they incinerate everybody in it.” He plays the guitar like he’s angry with it, strumming with percussive fury, but piano and violin give these raw tunes a little color. Sometimes the drugs are only implied—one character is handcuffed to a bed in intensive care, another matter-of-factly shoots a burglar in the face—but the desperation here is never less than palpable. Just say yes.