Labels: Dischord
Review by: Alex Deller
In which two art rock boffins showcase just how clever they are, their spartan two-man mix utilising drums/bass/guitars/keys/voice, but rarely all at the same time. It’s icy, detached and efficient to the point of soullessness, having seemingly been passed through some scientific device that drains off all extraneous emotion. Then, all of a sudden, in bursts ‘Lion’s Den’, a two-and-a-half minute barnstormer guided by guitars like mirrors reflecting sunlight and the spirit of Mission of Burma. This brisk slap to the chops causes you to stop, take stock and listen more carefully the next time the album plays through, revealing French Toast to be less the post-punk eunuch you’d suspected and more a subtly creeping wallflower whose charms are only revealed with the passage of time. A grower, as they say – just a extremely slow one.