dissonance and desperation, punched with mechanical precision on just-the-right beats, blushed with atmosphere, the great next coming of Interpol.
From the perspective of The actual Districts, it's pure third-albumism at its best. That first-era rollicking slam-and-yelp that melted away on Flourish // Spoil is altogether gone, and the simmer of frustrating adulthood and mortality infects every vein. It's all haze and hopelessness now, churning against the night.
These kids were always impossibly precocious, and here they are as twenty-something middle-aged men, railing with their increased prescience, through waves and waves of cringing buzzes and nervous reverb, useless washes of beauty in the face of blackness 4/5
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