Is this for real? If so, these eight Chicago musicians should probably investigate a career change. And so should Steve Albini, who did a better job being punched in the face by Courtney Love than producing this album. Let's break this down: the squealing vocals conjure up images of bearded '70s dudes who thought they were wizards, there are no tunes to speak of and the band endlessly fiddles around on a load of instruments they don't deserve. Seriously, these people have Moogs. Moogs! Please, scrap your dreams of indie "stardom," along with your pretentious liner notes and bio, and give that gear to someone who can use it.
(Skin Graft)Cheer-Accident
Salad Days
BY Lorraine CarpenterPublished Dec 1, 2000