Released January 8, 2015

"finding beauty in our blackest moments; mining the depths of our despair for gold. A celebration of sadness beautifully done." James Dapice - themusic.com.au, 29th July 2015

"Stages of grieving in bittersweet triumph.

As suggested by the title, which reflects the sometimes lacerating but clear-eyed self-assessments inside, this is another breakup album, whether real or imagined we are not told. The point is, it certainly seems real, and these are the kinds of insights that resonate with most of us. As Batterham observes, the darker he writes them, the more the audience seems to like it. Which should mean people are going to really love this.
We admire someone else out on the ledge, but sadly, some of the masters of melancholy, Elliott Smith and Nick Drake, aren’t around to hear the applause. Batterham is though, and Self Inflicted, No Sympathy is a triumph, if that’s the right word for 16 songs in all the autumnal shades of melancholia.

Close attention to these songs reveals a song cycle where the writer works through the aftermath of a breakup, from anger and shock to despair, self-awareness and philosophical acceptance. Human repair is not a straight line though, and neither is this album.

Opener Dead End arrives with the shock, a vigorously strummed guitar and a despairing vocal as Batterham sings, “I keep making the same mistake all over again, dead end’’.
All the Hearts You Break brings in electric guitar and drums, but it doesn’t spare the rod. Batterham sings in a voice that sounds like sleep has been a stranger for a while now: “Time has no mercy/Life never waits/Or magically helps you/Mend what you break.’’

On Liar, the strong melody — the melody is always king with Batterham — sits atop an undercurrent of nagging violin and cello, more John Cale with the Velvets than English folk; Snowflake is delivered like a lullaby (believe me, it’s not). And so it goes, an album delivered with all the clarity and crispness of the morning after the morning after.

How many ways is it possible to say this stuff, you might be thinking? When distilled to this kind of dew-drop-about-to-fall intensity, there is always another way." 4 1/2 Stars Noel Mengel - Courier Mail, 15th August 2015

Written and recorded by Nick Batterham.
Mastered by Adam Dempsey at Deluxe Mastering.

The cover photograph was taken in Pripyat, Chernobyl by Matthew Chuang in February 2014.