Santa Cruz singer-songwriter Marty O'Reilly plays it dirty, gritty, and raw. As his band lays out its lopsided, sepia-toned waltz, he sings each line as if it's his last. The emotion is genuine. Initially O'Reilly paints a dark picture as if he were dwelling in a Nick Cave, before vacillating into astute, poetic stuff. When he picks up the resonator, the haunting begins. Dark and beautiful and beguiling.