This spookily turgid, squealing suicide burner manages to accomplish two things: It makes killing yourself seem like a super-gradual process that never quite ends, while justifying some of the Radiohead references this Mississippi quintet garners. Potent stuff.
"Love Is Free"
No, of course it isn't—but soft-sold, sentimental uplift remains Crow's stock-in-trade, as though she's forever convinced that the 1960s never ended and her 3,000-watt grin and frizzy, bottle-blond mane can somehow make this cloudy, dowdy world a happier, better place. Bunk, sure, but if the Mama Sunshine Singers were to cover and release this as a single, I'd queue up for a digi-copy.
Baltimore's Deathset slam out finger-snap-quick, synth-pop-punk tunes; this one's a rabid pogo where they name-check themselves with all the youthful, caustic vigor of pre-Paul's Boutique Beastie Boys. New album Worldwide shoves 18 songs into 25 hectic minutes, which seems wasteful given that the storage capacity of your average disc is, like, 80 minutes; maybe this is nitpicky considering that by 2011 no one will be buying CDs, anyway.
I'd like to think that ol' Bob intended this as some sort of oblique mash-note to loyal hand/erstwhile GBV member Todd Tobias, who produced and played every instrument on Pollard's new Robert Pollard Is Off to Business. Otherwise, it's just a typically hashed conflation of insect/company man metaphors linked to an above-average indie-rock tune.
See, the trouble with collegiate remembrances is that they're never as pure as we'd wish; even the most golden experiences are tinged with some degree of bitterness. 2008's most-hated-on-thus-far indie act nails this unfortunate contradiction with a languid insouciance, as lovelorn longing plummets into deeply stoned oblivion.
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