He’s fine now, just back away slowly. I think he’s gotten over his spell. His anger seems to have subsided considerably. He appears to be doing much better. Oh, but what’s this? Oh, goodness, he’s breaking things again and really jackhammering his head and neck! Is that foam? But wait, now he’s back to being cool as a cucumber. These mood swings are a bitch. Joseph Enos gets them, and it makes In Arcadia’s debut record something of a slasher flick: always aware that you’re getting set up for something scary and intense. In Enos’s case: a bloodbath of chugging guitars and tire-popping vocals that, seconds earlier, were singing babies to bed.