Sam Shepherd lets rip on Cascade. If on Crush he was wringing humanity out of machines and documenting their pain, here he drives them like sledding dogs, too rapid to show any exhaustion, letting the inner sear propel blistering forward motion. Every inch of this record is built to last, hardy, functional, powerful music full of surprises and with an ear to floors full of shuffling feet. Pacing is not as good as other FP records, but this is album as collection rather than journey.