Alone with her acoustic guitar (and the occasional piano), Jenn Lindsay twists and turns through an eclectic mix of anti-pop tunes. She shrugs off standard form and procedure, creating a melodious mélange of underground tunes. There's a heartfelt sentiment at play, as the guitar is often a little sloppy and the lyrics tend to ramble with a feverish bent. This leans to Lindsay's advantage, painting a picture of harsh honesty which doesn't rely on hooks or catchy phrasings. It's akin to freestyle poetry, running along with just a hint of structure to keep everything in place.

Throughout the album, she often pops the strings of her guitar in a random fashion, accenting her winding words with unpredictable sharp staccato bursts: "Oh I've gone and done it again / (pop pop) Gone two hundred miles(pop) when I should've gone ten." The effect scatters your concentration, like a ball bouncing in many directions, although the beauty of it is that it doesn't sound intentional. Whether or not is a subtle mind trick, it gives Lindsay a unique edge in her unusual style of playing.