Choose the wrong music now and risk spending the rest of your life eating Ho-Hos and wondering what might have been. What you need is a little help from a very unlikely source. Ladies and gentlemen, the For Carnation. People who remember Slint may be a little surprised to learn that one of the same guys who once held up the power chord as the ultimate expressive music tool has reinvented himself as Barry White for the grad-school set, but the proof's all right there in the grooves, and the grooves are irresistible. In its finest moments, the album sounds like the grooviest, scariest, best thing to happen to making out since the invention of tinted windows.
Guitars fade in and out like voices in a dream, and synthesizers swell, moan and chirp.
It hardly matters. This is clearly a record for people with better things to do than sit down and listen to lyrics, and for that, we should all be deeply grateful. All rights reserved.