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Moonface, aka Spencer Krug, was determined to convince us that he wrote City Wrecker long before Miley Cyrus' infamous 'Wrecking Ball', but really there is no reason for him to worry about drawing such a bizarre comparison between the two. They could not be more staggeringly different. For one stands in a totally different realm to the other and is full of passion, sublime lyricism and rich vocal melodies, (and it does not take a genius to take a guess at which one we're talking about here.)

The man behind Moonface has personally identified himself as being something of a 'City Wrecker', which is being someone that wrecks places, not in a physical sense, but a wholly emotional sense. It is a process of internally tearing them apart and letting them worsen in his heart, destroying their meaning and then having to move on from them. This concept of confusion, alienation and disillusion runs right through the heart of City Wrecker - particularly as it was the last thing he wrote before he left Finland - and once this concept takes you, there's no way of escaping the elegance of its execution.

It is the development of feeling and emotion that really takes centre stage throughout the songs, with a genuine sense of strained feelings and a need to understand his own emotions and what he is going through in his internal brain space. It takes all that 2013's Julia With Blue Jeans On accomplished, and takes it further.

What is also remarkable is the richness of the sound, that has been padded out ever so slightly since the last album. Most of the time, it is simply Krug's estranged vocals and this intricate piano that stand alone in the limelight, with the odd synth thrown in here and there for magical effect. Take 'The Fog', that suddenly bursts into this spontaneous technicolour synth dream, then breaths in and out in beautiful atmospheric measure.

Each song seems to build on what has come before it, just like a preparatory procedure for the final two songs, as they elongate and swell. Yet it is 'Daughter of a Dove', in all its ten and a half minutes, that stands tall and is, quite frankly, nothing short of a masterpiece.

Exploring spiritual metaphors and the most complex structures and images of any of the songs on the EP, it bleeds beauty. It is so difficult to not be too whimsical and overdo it here, but it is sublime. The repetitiveness of the statement 'that's as spiritual as I need to be' ring strong and clear and reverberate in the mind. There are so many tiny details to pick up on and analyse, so intricate are the the images that make up this song. It feels well nurtured and thought out, and like something that took a dreadfully long time to put together in the right way to make sure it clicks into all the right slots.

The more you listen to this collection of songs, the more it develops. Upon first listen, it is almost overwhelming and confusing in how it builds and expands into this beautiful mountain of sophisticated agony via magical melodies, nurtured lyrics. Yet it is clear that there is a strong sense of confidence in how Moonface is continuing to develop as an artist and songwriter. He may speak of wrecking, and seems to worry incessantly about being a wrecker, but in many ways he is the complete opposite - he is a creator. And a pretty remarkable one at that.

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