Having wandered across our world’s vast oceans and mountains, having discussed the truths of love with saints and with swine, Toronto’s Constantines have returned with Tournament of Hearts, their third release for Sub Pop Records. Deep in manners, a band of gentlemen truly, this is not the telling after the kissing. These are the secrets locked away, an album heavy with the knowledge that the only truths worth telling are those truths told by lovers. Truths told in whispers and moans, truths lost and found under covers. Laid to tape amid the ghosts and wreckage of Toronto’s east end as Jeff McMurrich (Sea Snakes, Picastro, Hidden Cameras) cursed modern man’s technological alienation and Fat Bobby Matador (Oneida) wrestled the beasts, this is a record made for the chaos of days. A physical record, the thunder of battles of love. Against the immense falsehoods of the known and against the bloodless conventions of the unknown, against a dull world forever, this is an album of truth in desire. A record in filthy communion with mermaids and disorder, betrothed to the world with a sweetheart’s tender touch.