Jeymes Samuel and his musical identity, The Bullitts, put me in a good place. The incarnation of it that he presents here, in these four songs, slows the blood down to a sap's pace. It strips away the blockages and the thorns and allows for everything to flow smoother. It makes your blood something hot that you'd take cream with, lightening it, sweetening it -- taking the bitter tones out of it. It presents the terms of love as sagging floor joists, weakened by all of the misfires and logged heavy with the rare hits. This, to me, seems like a good place.