coming out of a listening cocoon and both the new broken spindles and of montreal have serious b.eno-isms. the faint dude lacks, does the byrne-era bush of ghosts plus synth minimalism thing, doesn't work, but of montreal (a band i have loathed since e6 was something you could namecheck in print without a sneer) manages to get the right amount of early-eno post glam ridiculousness (baby's on fire, only more reedy, which is to say, not as good as the o-rig) with their weird, badly realized rubber kick drum thing. sad band, them, but i can finally see a way in.
and in a sinister funk right now, since i am crushed out and in dismay. am going to watch "deadheads:an american subculture" to get myself psyched for the absurd once again. nothing like blatent hatred of hippies to brighten my day.
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