Liz Durrett’s previous outing Husk provided evidence of a fragile but resilient soul - one who spent her teens writing songs that would have penetrated the psyche of the most hardened among us. Some took Durrett to task for the album’s use of “atmosphere,” accusing her (incorrectly) of making a style over substance record. Husk had depth and if the artist got lost in the haze it may have been because a number of the songs were composed and recorded while she was still in her teens. Here, she returns and steps out in a more prominent (and mature) role, still delivering those penetrating songs but doing it with an undeniable and thoroughly convincing flare. Hell, a few of the tracks (“Cup on the Counter,” “In the Throes”) even border on being hits - at least among a network of people who make mix tapes for each other as though they were letters - love, longing, or otherwise; others (“Silent Partner,” the title cut) are vignettes that come and go in an elliptical, dreamlike fashion. Durrett has delivered an album that will serve to deliver many of us from darkness during dark nights of the soul for some time to come. – Jedd Beaudoin (2006, The Daily Copper)