REVIEW

A little more than half-way through Do You Dream About Me, Wullen and company pivot us with a change in noise and tempo that drifts almost into silence and then slowly field recordings and other noise creep back into the foreground for one last striking verse.

Each track is a short burst of energy disappearing as quickly as it appeared leaving you grasping for some semblance of continuity. “Yeah, I’ve got this,” you tell yourself and then a gust of saxophone or the stammering of drums tilts you away from the previous track on to something new.

This is a release that isn’t for everyone. It does, however, have an audience. It is definitely a work that will appeal to people who like Steve Reich, The Fucked Up Beat, and the experimental self-releases by Sonic Youth.

A magical, though melancholy domain runs parallel to ostensible reality. It lies beyond the «boundaries» of mundane chatter and/or primetime harmonies. It offers a sense of freedom, a bittersweet divorce from comforting typicality that’s known to «bums on the road.»

Roswell Radio Cult is an album of suggestion, a sound implicit rather than explicit and utterly defiant of explanation. In such cases, it’s often as helpful to put on some tap shoes for le Corbusier, or simply recommend that the reader simply listen for himself.

These Anti-fascist hymnals are ideal for undergarment removal after a PBR drenched, DMT tinted evening or as soundtrack to the window smashing, corporate bank looting riot enthusiasm of hard-line anarcho-punks.

The band refuse to respond in kind. In a strange combination of worry, awe, and self-irony, their first video is entitled «Misha Meets the UFO.» A teddy bear(!) is frozen with fear in front of an insistent light source.