The Pale Young Gentlemen are indeed pale. But unless my eyes have deceived me, they’re not all gentlemen and at least one of them is gonna get a smack from mama for their chauvinism. Maybe that’s why there’s all of this talk of only having one good arm, and running through barley and other slightly macabre circumstances. “The Crook of My Good Arm†is an escape song—the string section is low and immediate, the guitar is frantic, and the vocals and lyrics fall somewhere between Tom Waits and Rufus Wainwright. What they’re escaping from, we’re not sure. But there’s a good chance it’s mama’s wooden spoon.
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