REVIEWS
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SPLENDIDEZINE,
October 2, 2004
Let's not beat around the
bush here; the best way to describe this (ahem) creation is "fucking
weird!" First, there's the disc's packaging: hand-written, photocopied
album art on which the band's name and album title are illegible.
No contact information is included, apart from a postal address
in Oregon, Illinois, so you couldn't feasibly acquire this elusive
album even if you wanted to. And finally, there's the matter of
the music itself, which is just plain tripped-out. Judging by the
disconnected shifts in style, the fuckall experimental sampling
(including everything from cracking whips to creepy robot voices)
and the low-key chanted narrative, we're guessing that the album's
creators have ingested copious amounts of hallucinogens. Either
that, or they've stopped taking something they should be taking.
To be fair, they also demonstrate
a firm grasp on music composition; the tracks (or rather track,
as the disc presents as a single, 25-minute song despite its cryptic
track listing) are best when combining Eno-esque psych rock and
folksy choruses. Still, that's not enough to dispel the feeling
that Adam, 2073 AD simply has to synch up with some oddball movie
-- think Alice in Wonderland + Pink Floyd's The Wall. In fact, there
are definite suggestions of an epic narrative here, so perhaps it
was created by closeted geniuses attempting to convey an imperative
message to the world. Unfortunately, if that's the case, said message
was distorted by the fucking weird delivery method. Melissa
Amos
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