The current economic gloom is tailor-made for Wainwright's trenchant commentaries in this slim portfolio of sardonic observations.
Who else would spot the irony in getting sacked from the job you always professed to hate ("Fear Itself"), or meditate upon the gloomy mien of one's favourite economic pundit ("The Krugman Blues")? A couple of minstrel songs from the original Great Depression offer comparative parallels, notably "The Panic Is On" ("Pawned my razor, but not my gun/ If luck don't change, there'll be some stealin' done"), but the most mordant irony is reserved for "House", wherein he reveals an unforeseen silver lining of sorts in the collapse of the housing market, as anchoring shaky marriages: "There's no way we could sell our house now, so we'll have to stay/ You can't up and walk out on me, and I can't run away".
DOWNLOAD THIS House; The Panic Is On; Fear Itself
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