You might not have guessed it from the blisteringly distorted garage-punk his band Coachwhips slice through with switchblade ferocity, but John Dwyer’s into recording chunks of avant-nonsense and warped folk while he’s kicking around the house. Recorded between 2001 and 2003, Dwyer’s debut under the OCS moniker is full of tape hiss, bird chirps, noisy four-track experiments and the occasionally stirring banjo composition. Akin to something like Beck’s Stereopathetic Soul Manure, 2 is far from easy (or even very interesting) listening. Many of the experiments, while sounding sort of cool, typically overstay their welcome, and sifting through much of this ultimately plodding filler only yields a few worthwhile results, like the groovy keys funk exchange of "Mike D.” and the wispy butt-folk of "Killed Yourself,” but for the most part 2 drags on far too long without providing enough quality material to fuel it. This is a classic case of the ideal EP being stretched into a full album and losing its potency in the process. (Narnack)