Lesser Evil

Though there are clear highlights--the druggy, danceable Egypt and the dreamy Anomaly--the album holds together as a larger, unified statement.

Doldrums' frequently multi-tracked falsetto is the icing on an appealingly irregular cake. [Apr 2013, p.71]

Lesser Evil proves that Doldrums can roam without fear of getting lost.

It's cacophonous and polyrhythmic, continuously falling apart and putting itself back together.

Though it will never be something you can boogie on down to, or strut your wiggly bits at, it will, without a shadow of a doubt, hold your attention.

Woodhead is lost in the myriad sonic worlds he meticulously crafts throughout this sublime album.

The density of the album might take a while to sink into, but its catchiness will keep the listener returning to try to crack the code.

It sees the Canadian doing what he does best--welding samples together obsessively, and wailing a lot over the top.

As a whole, Lesser Evil can be a lot to take in: it’s hyperactive, unstable, and disoriented. Most of the time it feels like all three at once. Yet Doldrums’ ability to hop genres with ease, write catchy melodies, and--above all--sound like he’s having fun doing it renders his place unique in an overcrowded genre, and his debut a promising one.

It's a warped ride overall, though not without some solid moments hidden beneath the surface. [No. 96, p.54]

Like a good new party drug, Lesser Evil finds a sweet spot more often than not if you let it.

In the wider picture, this may not make the impressive strides 'Visions' or Purity Ring's 'Shrines' did, but there's every chance Lesser Evil can find an audience to smother it in all the affection it deserves.

While there is an abundance of elements that are “of the norm,” a joyous and haphazard mashing of non-standard pop ingredients drives home the album’s directive: a deranged, wonderful projection of polypop-delirium.