By Scott Creney So when you first join up there’s all these goddamned floating circles and you’re supposed to pick your favorite genre of music from a bunch of categories that are so broad & vague as to be meaningless: alternative, electronic, pop, rock, oldies, etc. But you can’t see all the bubbles at once […]
This isn’t just one more reunion. And I’m pleased to say that Uncanney Vally justifies its existence, the re-emergence of the band.
Music to bury your parents to. Music to shake yourself to sleep to. Music to make a traffic jam seem poetic. Music to make you a better person. Music to make you the worst person you’ve ever been. Music to stalk children to. Music to save the world to.
Robert Pollard’s language is a universe that is both abstract and familiar, a poetry informed by gray skies and basements, used cars and starch.
It’s the best kind of “more of the same”
Dignity is just an obstacle that keeps you from reaching your full commercial potential.
Why is that male-fronted bands are more easily notorious for emotionality than any similarly visceral girl-fronted bands?
If you like museum pieces, by all means pick this album up.
Every morning, just to wake myself up and remind myself I’m alive, I like to stare into the abyss.