“These songs were composed directly after the first LP. Over time. We recorded and mixed the songs in two days in January 2000. I feel that the songs represent a more holistic sense of what Dakota Suite represents. We tried to present songs which were easier to listen to in one sitting. And we tried to get them as close to the live experience as possible.” (Chris Hooson / April 2000)
”On the sleevenotes for Dakota Suite's last album proper, 1998's 'Songs For a Barbed Wire Fence', mainman Chris Hooson thanked his wife for saving him from dying.
It was no trite remark. Hooson had previously taken to his bed and willed himself to stop living. He had worked in some heavy-duty places - a hospice for terminal alcoholics, among others - and he was left broken. 'Songs...' reflected all that. It was bleak and fragile and chillingly intense. It offered no way round.
Now comes the redemption.
'Signal Hill', as before, is still essentially a mood piece and that mood remains resolutely indigo. But the fear of loss and the unknown is now underlined by a tacit belief that the fog is slowly lifting. Of course, there is only so happy Dakota Suite can be; 'Raining Somewhere' with its simple cello, stabbing piano and tolling bell is no picnic. But in tracks like 'I Turned Away So That I May Not See' and album closer 'When Skies Are Grey' producer and former Spacemen 3 associate Richard Formby has teased out a bruised, if sparse, orchestral swell that can't help but lift the spirit.
This is not irritating, maudlin, lo-fi nonsense. Dakota Suite are a much rarer, much more truly damaged bird. First, through the fence, and then now up the hill. Dakota Suite are almost there. Why not follow them?” (NME. 8/10)

“These songs were composed directly after the first LP. Over time. We recorded and mixed the songs in two days in January 2000. I feel that the songs represent a more holistic sense of what Dakota Suite represents. We tried to present songs which were easier to listen to in one sitting. And we tried to get them as close to the live experience as possible.” (Chris Hooson / April 2000)

”On the sleevenotes for Dakota Suite's last album proper, 1998's 'Songs For a Barbed Wire Fence', mainman Chris Hooson thanked his wife for saving him from dying.
It was no trite remark. Hooson had previously taken to his bed and willed himself to stop living. He had worked in some heavy-duty places - a hospice for terminal alcoholics, among others - and he was left broken. 'Songs...' reflected all that. It was bleak and fragile and chillingly intense. It offered no way round.
Now comes the redemption.
'Signal Hill', as before, is still essentially a mood piece and that mood remains resolutely indigo. But the fear of loss and the unknown is now underlined by a tacit belief that the fog is slowly lifting. Of course, there is only so happy Dakota Suite can be; 'Raining Somewhere' with its simple cello, stabbing piano and tolling bell is no picnic. But in tracks like 'I Turned Away So That I May Not See' and album closer 'When Skies Are Grey' producer and former Spacemen 3 associate Richard Formby has teased out a bruised, if sparse, orchestral swell that can't help but lift the spirit.
This is not irritating, maudlin, lo-fi nonsense. Dakota Suite are a much rarer, much more truly damaged bird. First, through the fence, and then now up the hill. Dakota Suite are almost there. Why not follow them?” (NME. 8/10)