Pop regurgitators engage in pure self-indulgence on this new release. They've quickly segued from garage rockers aping Rolling Stones riffs to a bastardized amalgamation of The Mothers of Invention & Devo, tossing a little New York No Wave into the mix as they navigate a world of aliens, Roman Numerals, and wiretapping on this lo-fi concept album. Endearing in a "we don't give a shit what anyone thinks" kind of way, ineffectual on a fundamental "we're gonna run with this alien concept idea" level.
Buy this record if your braces start vibrating morse code messages.
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