The album seems to be an aural excercise in post-rock chin scratching; you get the feeling that Fly Pan Am's maxim is: "The more avant-garde and inaccessible the better".
Consequently we're left with implausibly long song titles, ("Rompre l'indifference de l'inexitable avant que l'on vienne rompre le sommeil de l'inamie") tracks consisting entirely of static feedback and painful minimalism that often leaves you asking; "What is the point to this record?".
Sampling what sounds like a woodpecker in a gas leak might be an original respite from the cookie cutter culture of "popular" music, but just because it's different doesn't make it good- does it?
At times the pretentious odour of this record is too much to bear, particularly the "dislocated, self-sabotaging" way that FPA make the tracks stutter and jump and stop dead as if your CD player is broken.
But before drowning completely in their own self indulgence, they are gracious enough to leave us with some good moments such as the final impromptu "rock" track and the funk (yes, funk!) repetition of "Rompre l'indifference..." that serve as a much needed reality check in the face of such a self-important record.
