The Scapegoat Factory
Cockeyed Ghost may have simply bit off more than they could chew. Wavering between genres and influences through the album’s entirety, their sub-par attempts on each musical account paint the band more as wandering failures than their attempt at becoming Renaissance-esque musicians. A kaleidoscope whose individual pieces don’t shine enough light to create the intended beautiful complete effect, The Scapegoat Factory is a plainly scattered mess.
From Pearl Jam interpretations to whiny, acoustic ballads, just about everything makes its way onto the album. Of course, there’s also the flat-out rock-n-roll — with one tune so ironically titled “I Hate Rock ‘N’ Roll.” Indie-pop falls on its face in a few instances thanks to the absence of quality hooks or engaging lyrical patterns, and a piano-led number entitled “The Fates Cry Foul” switches between something out of Broadway’s Rent and a weak Five For Fighting homage. Cockeyed Ghost almost seems to search for applause of their versatility, but it’s treacherously difficult to approve such a wide gaze with such little substance.
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