Picture the scene. You've strayed away from your pals on a weekend in the great outdoors. As darkness falls, you try desperately to find your way back to camp and then paranoia takes hold. That’s what 'Fishin' evokes. But it does so without ever really going anywhere in its nine minutes, as if it too got lost somewhere between the lake and the log fire. The dreaded 'M' word rears it's head again, but this is a minimal track bound to fall between the crevices into obscurity, never to be found again.
The more purposeful 'Bur' defines itself a lot quicker with some warped percussion, dropping the weird-for-weirdness-sake routine to become the track most likely to induce dancing on this EP. Hoping for a helping of spacey chords and a melodic finale akin to Cavendars' 'Choice', alas, it finishes up on more abstract meandering. Elsewhere on ‘Uncle Bill Cabin’, Uncle Bill sounds like he's going through a bout of cabin fever, which I could empathise with after a few listens to this EP. Perhaps those dark Canadian winters take their toll on everyone’s spirit eventually, transitional lifeforms included.