If the "It's" in the title of this album refers to relationships and their diverse possible outcomes (which even a cursory listen will reveal to be the case), then Edith Frost is a perennial loser-- the dice go cold in her hands; she loses a turn; she goes directly to jail. It's difficult to unearth a song here that doesn't find Frost in dire romantic straits-- not just heartbroken, but plainly pathetic, unabashedly needy. One waits, in vain, for some sort of inner strength or declaration of independence to emerge; instead, personal dignity is sacrificed time and again to the ghost of romantic love.