You're a supplement, you're a salve
Biting words for an object of (supposed) affection. In about 2 and a quarter minutes, Annie Clark (a.k.a. St. Vincent) delivers seething insult after insult yet her tirade ends with I think I love you, I think I'm mad, bringing new meaning to the phrase "guilty pleasure." Clark's frosty, disaffected delivery is the icing on the cake filled with distorted noise, electronically-tweaked saxaphones, and scuzzy synthesizers. Brimming with controlled anger, guilt and disconcerting sounds, "Actor Out of Work" is Clark at her barbed best.
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