So Cow frontman Brian Kelly kicks off The Long Con mumbling half-heartedly about "these kids today." He ends the record with a toast to his old pal "Barry Richardson", whose pub-as-temple theologizing makes the increasingly temperate Kelly just a little jealous. At more than one point on The Long Con, Kelly starts rattling off all the jobs held by his friends and neighbors; these moments play like the tail end of one of those long, winding Sunday afternoon calls home, when you've run through all your personal business and—desperate for material—start catching your mom up on what your friends are up to. Whether he's whiling away an afternoon at the bar with an old Madness record in the background or idly wondering about the inner life of reclusive Queen bassist John Deacon, Kelly seems to be feeling his age throughout The Long Con: he may look the part of a guy in his late twenties, but he can't always seem to see himself in the role. For Kelly, The Long Con is adulthood—with all its attendant mundanity and fatigue—and he's just another mark.