Barnes & Noble
Furthering his reputation as one of the modern punk scene's most dizzying perpetual-motion machines, Thrice's frontman embarks on something of a busman's holiday with this short, sharp collection, which uses its demo-tape sparseness to emphasize a crystal-clear delivery of the eight songs included herein. While Please Come Home is every bit as passionate as his band's best work, Kensrue pumps down the volume palpably, settling into a darkly soulful range that's one part Springsteen, one part Ry Cooder. By lacing songs like "Consider the Ravens" and "Pistol" with acoustic leads -- which he's described as having been plucked out on a pawnshop-salvage-quality six-string -- that alternate between slashing the listener and soothing those wounds, he hits pretty much the entire emotional continuum. For those accustomed to the singer's often wildly arcing performances, Please Come Home might take some getting used to -- seeing as it's as much a psychic departure as it is a sonic deviation -- but Kensrue rewards that effort with songs that leave listeners feeling worn-but-warm, sapped at the end of a long, emotional ride. David Sprague
All Music Guide
The harmonica-swept locomotion steamroll of "I Knew You Before" clues listeners in straightaway that Thrice frontman Dustin Kensrue wanted to release an album separate from his main gig for good reason. Gone is the chugging and metallic post-hardcore Thrice have been perfecting since 1998; it's replaced on Please Come Home with little more than an acoustic guitar, harmonica, and considerable amount of respect for the traditions of singer/songwriters come before. It might just be luck that Kensrue's down-home delivery meshes effortlessly with this new rustic backdrop without sounding forced, but one could hardly call it luck in his pulling off an entire album of folk and country-inspired fare that is remarkably subtle in its ability to be completely memorable. Yes, the slight Southern inflections that occasionally crop up belie his Orange County home and might initially seem out of place, but even conspicuous cuts like the bluesy rogue of "Blood & Wine" sink in nicely after a few spins. It's a bit of a tease that there are only eight tracks in about 30 minutes' time, but the early-morning glow of songs like the charming "Pistol" (divulging Kensrue's boyish affections for his wife) and quietly aching title track exude such a rough tenderness and sincere warmth that what the record lacks in quantity is easily made up in quality. Working with co-producer and Thrice bandmate Teppei Teranishi, Kensrue has proved with Please Come Home that he doesn't need to scream over a thick slab of sound to effectively turn heads; six strings and a dusty porch out back do just fine. Corey Apar