Seventy minutes of spacy, spiritualized import and rich, cerebrated texture can’t win the Phil Spector prize / Kevin Shields orbit with a chilly soul pilot (Jason Pierce) at the helm, cracked because he’s fettered by grief. The white whir is too sleek (eddies fall short of angularity), the dope ennui too offish; though these are better than average melodies. “Electricity” is fine, but all I really savor is the blue title track.
Rating: B
