We're starting with this one? Yes. Yes, we fucking are. I hate Beverly Hills. It's single-bait gimmickry and it can G.T.F.O. Cut it off the same as Jonathan Davis's song on the Downpour soundtrack. The resultant album is as perfect as anything that's not Pinkerton (or Maladroit) can be. In some ways, it seems like Rivers was trying to take a basic approach like he did with Green, but accidentally fell into startlingly stirring sincerity without any undue effort. I'd personally argue that some pieces here rival Pinkerton's unabashed starkness.
Songs of Note: Damage in Your Heart; The Other Way
4½ Guys Actually Self-Aware Enough to Know What They Are out of 5