People talk about disaffection like it’s a bad thing. It’s a front, a screen you put up to stymie your real feelings, the ones that would come bubbling on up if only you made honest art. Or so the myth of ironic detachment goes. But what about those that are true to their apathy? Steve Sobs doesn’t make sad songs so much as he makes bored songs, songs ripe with ennui, songs on the verge of going limp.