These boys are from Chicago. They record at Steve Albini's Electrical Audio studio. And they play . . . an intoxicating blend of stoner rock, buzzsaw punk and spacey psychedelia. The word "shoegaze" is bandied about a bit in the press notes, but these guys are way too intense for that.
Even while I'd avoid the "S" word, there is an introspective quality to these songs that draws in the ears. Pink Frost isn't needy, but it shares just enough to be startlingly alluring. The sound is sharp, yet lush. And as Albini didn't actually twist the knobs, the pipes get their due. There are some lovely layered vocal bits that really pretty up the joint.
Still and all, this is an album about power. With the exception of "Avian" (a full-blown psychedelic punk ballad), this album is kinetic and often throbbing. Once it starts rolling, everything feels inevitable. It's not, of course, Pink Frost has simply created a world where its music tops the evolutionary chain. And as worlds go, it's a pretty good one. Soak this one up as the summer heads into its final laps.
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