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Like Grandaddy’s Jason Lytle, Ed Tracy is a man who went out in search of an adventure and never returned home. Tracy’s bright, Beefhartian base for skewed-pop cosies-up alongside Edwyn Collins and Sufjan Stevens. Lurching over a loose conglomerate of guitars, keys, bass, sax and samples, Tracy is clearly the proprietor of a unique mind that rightly acknowledges that the sullen seam of post-punk has been mined to exhaustion. Although lachrymose lyricism peppers the majority of his bittersweet pop, Tracy is at his best when he finds time to laugh at the moment he flicked Vs at his boss on Sackable Offence, and ruminating on daytime coitus. ” Are we post-watershed, on four post waterbed?” the singer asks on Between The Sheets, clearly too caught up in the moment to really care about waiting for an answer. THE METRO