"-the debut from Elliott Smith associate Andrew Morgan plays like some exquisitely filmed yet ultimately tragic widescreen blockbuster. Morgan's songs are as tender in tone as they are ambitious in arrangement, interweaving cello, piano and a strangely forlorn guitar into a series of hypnotizing, mellifluous cinematic lullabies. "

"A dark and searching string-laden labour of love"

"A string drenched epic heavy on cello, harmonium and piano with more than a smattering of Brian Wilson-inspired timpani."

8 out of 10
"A sombre string instrumental breaks us in to an album of unpretentious and lushly arranged pop, with Pet Sounds and [Elliott] Smith's own X/O playing loudly in the background... Advice to fans of bands like Lambchop or Tindersticks as well as more recent acts such as Sufjan Stevens, Rufus Wainwright or Kevin Tihista: Stop reading. Start buying."

I've been sitting on this album for several months now ? God bless divorce ? and now that I'm listening to the delicate and intricate arrangements here, I'm really surprised that the critics aren't evoking Morgan's namesake in some Arcade Fire-like, "hype machine in overdrive" fashion. Morgan establishes his expertise for crooning the pensive, fragile folk of world-weary heroes like Elliot Smith and Nick Drake pretty early on, but the Phillip Glass on Sufjan Stevens-style arrangements in the background are what's really knocking my socks off. This lushly produced backing indie/chamber pop ? which includes violin, viola, cello, lap steel, French horn, tympani, accordion, harpsichord, organ, etc. -- evokes the real emotion ("Awful Room" for example), and articulates Morgan's full-blooded ideas in ways he never could with just a guitar or piano. I don't honestly know if this is Morgan's first release, but if it is, then I'm really impressed. Frankly, Paul McCartney and Brian Wilson weren't this far ahead (arrangement-wise) of the game with their early material, and I'm really wondering where Morgan will be by his next opus. If you think I'm full of shit, put Morgan's "Shoulder Your Shovels" back to back with anything from Pet Sounds or Sgt. Peppers and I think you'll be surprised how well he measures up.

Playfully haunted by the spirit of a certain Elliott, Misadventures in Radiology is eerily reminiscent of the melancholia mastered by the friendly ghost. Whether Andrew Morgan would exist in this exact capacity without the omnipotent coxswain will never be known, but the resulting recording is positively reverential of his friend and cohort's life and death. A eulogy? Perhaps. To serendipitously quote the Misadventures liner notes, "as selfless, kind, intelligent, and humble as he was talented, his presence and music were, and will continue to be, a source of refuge and inspiration to countless people. The making of this album, both in its writing and recording, owe Elliot and incalculable debt." Morgan's effort is obviously far beyond a mere replication of his predecessor's repertoire. Gratuitously expounding upon said foundation with an adventurous architectural flare, the endlessly swelling, intertwining orchestrations revisit the experimental crux and intricacies of 1960s pop music. The melodic complexities are compounded by Morgan's verbal encyclopedia, as massive as a J. D. Salinger character. Morgan understands the past and proves that he is worthy of the crown which he is primed to inherit from the dear friend who now smiles upon him from the netherworld.

4.5 out of 5 stars
The product of a five-year gestation cycle that included a near-death experience for its creator and the tragic suicide of its patron, Elliott Smith, Andrew Morgan's Misadventures in Radiology arrives swaddled in the kind of drama and mythology typically reserved for artists at the peaks of their careers, not their outset -- fittingly, this lush, nuanced record boasts a maturity and grace far beyond Morgan's years, evoking in exquisitely fine strokes masterpieces spanning from "Odessey and Oracle" to "Ocean Rain." Comparisons to Smith are also inevitable, but while its widescreen scope and orchestral grandeur recall the late singer/songwriter's albums for DreamWorks, Misadventures in Radiology is more celebratory than melancholy -- few records actually exalt in the sheer joy of making music, but even Morgan's darkest and most deeply intimate songs revel in the power of emotional release.