CD Review

Wilderness come from crab town—Baltimore, Maryland, where the blue crabs just got ready for eatin' last month—and their album is best tasted while fresh. Hell, you may even still like it by next month. The minimalism of this band is definitely their strength: the space between the notes moves both the music and the repetitive, droned-out vocals of singer James Johnson. First track “The Blood Is on the Wall” promises so much—the vocals echo out like Dead Can Dance on half a whippet—but goddamn it if the drums don't kick in halfway through and the music loses its originality. This problem repeats itself for the rest of the record, making the band straddle that art rock/emo fence like Les Savy Fav. At least they don't sink into using—oh, fuck, there's that disco drumbeat. Come on, guys, let's keep it weird! If you mixed this album sans drums, it would be amazing. Just “forget” to invite the dude to practice one day and see what happens.  

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