Estimated reading time: 3 minute(s)
★★☆☆ This is, at first, a somewhat frustrating album. It’s still recognizably The Faceless, but the music’s taken on a new inconsistency and weirdness (and Michael Keene is no stranger to weirdness). It starts very strongly (skipping the throwaway opener), with something akin to radio-friendliness without losing any of the technical bravado or progressive elements. But by the middle third, cohesion is shoved aside for questionable choices. In particular, that Depeche Mode cover in the middle is an abomination; joke’s on me, I suppose. I can’t help but think that 1) this album may grow nominally on me, 2) I’m having to borrow against my Faceless fandom to get there, and 3) Keene really needs more editorial influences to temper his vision a bit. In the meantime, listen to track 2-4 and imagine the rest of the album living up to that.