Dan Boeckner doing his thing, the result sounding not unlike his work with Wolf Parade, but with some icy distance and electronic edge courtesy of a trip through Eastern Europe. This isn't exactly Berlin Trilogy or Liars' self titled territory (Station to Station at most on the infection-by-frigid-European-distance scale), but its a shift. The wooly, star-burning woods are traded for headlight flickers and apartment windows and isolation. Where Wolf Parade felt connected to the our deeper desires, this album connects to our deeper inhibitions, simmering instead of running wild.
Still, the texture and tunefulness are in place, the energy and hope and promise still lurk around every corner, and the vocal hooks are still some of the best in the ravaged-throat howler wing of house indie rock. Whether he's in a blackout or the black of night, Boeckner's got a knack for lighting a match 4/5
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