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Like a gang of mohawk- and bullet-belt-wearing undead just arisen from a moist plot in --- Saby Reyes-Kulkarni
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It’s still coming: the critical backlash from the 2004 But success is a good fit. The band does intelligent, poetic pop music better than most, and on this record --- the band’s newest since cinematic fame --- the production takes a step up. The album is substantially dreamier, the songwriting a little more diverse. But for some reason I’ve never been all that blown away by The Shins. The singles are poppy, but not poppy enough to get stuck on repeat. The lyrics tend to get buried in jangling guitars, and singer James Mercer’s image-rich lines always seem to elude clear interpretation --- that doesn’t help a band already caught between subcultures. Sure, “New Slang” is catchy (and its lyrics read like a jigsaw puzzle). But was anyone’s life really changed by it? More of the same done well. Though, that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. --- Andrew Frisicano
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Diehard fans onboard from the beginning may still insist that Pavement’s first album, Slanted and Enchanted, has had the most sustained impact of any album in the band’s catalog, but Wowee Zowee, the group’s third full-length, is arguably where Pavement showed once and for all that it meant business. Even if “business” meant a literal double-dose of wise-ass irony, on Wowee Zowee, Pavement’s lo-fi, fuck-all approach to production intersected as perfectly as it ever would with the band’s increasingly ambitious songwriting. A wildly varied masterpiece dropped head-first into the sweaty furor of grunge/alternative that had dominated the American musical landscape up until the time of its release (1995), the original 18-song program plays so seamlessly that it’s hard to justify adding anything else. But fans familiar with Matador’s lavish re-vamping of the entire Pavement catalog know the drill by now and will want to eat up the oodles of extra tracks, particularly the dozen or so live/radio session recordings --- especially as a Pavement reunion looks ever more unlikely as we approach the 10th anniversary of the band’s premature and unfortunately anti-climactic demise. --- Saby Reyes-Kulkarni
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Think of pop hooks where untangling the melody warrants wading through the maze of dance beats and synth noise. Ziggy Stardust transfused with the self consciousness of 2006, prematurely aware of the pitfalls of fame and success. Of The band, whose songs have been recently featured on commercials for NASDAQ and Outback Steakhouse, is promising a stage show with all the make-up, costumes and effects their new marketability can buy. But even with some Grade-A pageantry, this album might be too personal (and depressing) for audiences to turn off their brains and dance to. --- Andrew Frisicano
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