John Dwyer has crafted the come down album of the year. Eschewing the strum and drang he’s known for with his indie rock, balls in your face band, The Coachwhips, Dwyer is content to wallow in an acoustic-cum-morning-after-meltdown. Acoustic guitar finger picking and some murky plaintive vocals are awash in keyboards, noise collages and shitty four-track recording ambience. Think: Iron and Wine, the morning after an all night rave up on crystal-meth and some mega doses of L.S.D. Think: The Folk Implosion writing the soundtrack for an episode of Twin Peaks. While anyone familiar with Flying Saucer Attack would not be at all surprised with what is found here, Dwyer does capably bridge the ambient, womb music of that band with some of the goofy, off-the-fly shit more common to mid-90s Sebadoh (e.g., what the fuck is up with “Banjo, Sold for Rent?”). It’s all remarkably consistent, even though most of these tracks were recorded over a two-year span. While these mini stoner exercises in noodle chord progression can become a bit tedious and turgid at times, I suspect you wouldn’t listen to 2 for soothing emotional catharsis, but rather as the soundtrack for when the trails begin to subside and the tremors diminish.
Narnack Records: www.narnackrecords.com