'Light Time' is a subtle and powerful 12" vinyl exercise in it's own flaws, weaknesses and strength of purpose. Side A's two tracks act as one piece of transitional music; confrontational and satisfying with the softest abandon of self-awareness. Side B glances to the past and confirms the restorative cycle of death, decay, contemplation, and re-growth. For all of the whispery voiced, faux-bohemian, lilting clichés that over populate what we can loosely term as "folk music", Lewis & Clarke once again reminds us that the heart, above all else, is a muscle.
"Lewis & Clarke blew up their pastoral folk sound into long, torn-open and moody soundscapes on 2007's Blasts of Holy Birth, and they have taken that brooding tangled beauty down even darker roads....Light Time shows once again that Lewis & Clarke's quiet sound is an affecting one."
"Lewis & Clarke doesn’t play songs as much as unfurl them, slowly letting ribbons of sound billow and cascade. The power, though, is palpable, made even stronger through delicateness, a paradox that is at play not only in the music on Light Time but also in its metaphors for life, loss and renewal.
Hypnotic mountain folk, setting reedy vocals against spare and elegant guitars, gradually swooning into a near seven-minute piece full of strings and woodsy imagery...songs for getting lost into"
"A reminder that the heart, above all else, is a muscle."
-Donnybrook Writing Academy
"With lyrics that pluck at the heartstrings, and guitar that can be most simply put as solemnly subtle, there's a sense of heaviness that seems to be barely escaping itself...These are songs that embrace their own hopeful anguish, and satisfy our need to feel."
"(Light Time) doesn’t just have three noir naturalistic Rogai-penned tracks to worship and adore — he and his crew cover the Leonard Cohen masterpiece “Chelsea Hotel # 2.”
-Philadelphia City Paper
"Haunting, hushed vocals and introspective songs elegantly couched in understated arrangements"
-The Morning Call