Dan Melchior's career, post-Broke Revue, shifted to North Carolina and the fringes of the current garage/punk scene. He'd left a band, a life, and a struggle to be noticed amidst NYC's now-forgotten Class of '01 behind, as well as an unreleased double album that could have singularly launched him far beyond the middle rungs of the In the Red roster and one-time compatriot of Billy Childish and Holly Golightly. Sadly, that's not how it turned out; regardless, Christmas for the Crows serves not only as a comeback, but his finest album to date.
From the looks of things, it's just Melchior alone in the studio, every bit the songwriter he's always been, and approaching a level of world-worn sorrow and blind determination once mounted by Vic Godard, where gentle arrangements of Medway parlor-blues-folk rise up and float into the attic. I'm somewhat haunted by the fifteen songs here, as they don't leave my memory for days after playing this one through (and I have played it through far too many times, given the volume of submissions staring back at me every time I turn to the record player). It's the sound of folly and regret, and the realization that what you have around you is all you can use to get you through to the next day – love and regret, hand in hand.