Everett True has a short review of Black Postcards on his Village Voice blogs
He is pretty fucking harsh on himself, full stop. Often, you’re like, “Dean! Quit it! If you don’t like the way you’re behaving, don’t behave like it! You’re a sensitive, intelligent person—get over it.” Yet, despite—or perhaps because of—all that, Black Postcards is a riveting, chilling read: a cautionary tale for anyone thinking of starting an old-school indie rock band, shot through with regret, desire and longing. There. That’s my pull quote for the dust jacket. Can I go now?