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Entertainment WeeklyTheir fuzzed-out organ drones and grinding sludge-boogie guitar is trance music as imagined by Harley-Davidson engineers. [Listen 2 This supplement, Feb 2003, p.12]
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In short, this may not be an album you'll want to listen to every day, but its disproportionate number of "Holy shit!" moments should earn it a spot close to your stereo.
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Alternative PressFilled with the sort of unprofessional, unpretty noodling this genre has been begging for. [Feb 2003, p.68]
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A stormy and engrossing sonic stew.
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BlenderThey follow measured guitar burn with bone-rattling explosions, and roll mesmerizing tension into colossal release. [#14, p.138]
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Ultimately, the album's drone proves better suited as a break from the explosions than as an end unto itself.
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All droning guitars, snail-paced rhythms and bombastic arrangements, songs like "Schedule for Using Pillows & Beanbags" and "Your Lights Are (Out or) Burning Badly" will either raise the hairs on the back of your neck or put you to straight to sleep.
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The token swell to storm that has come to characterize the post-rock set seems mailed in here; the build-ups are never ominous, the explosion of guitars never reach the near cacophonous bliss that their heroes so effortlessly visit.
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Most indie-somethings will scoff defiantly upon hearing the note-for-note schlepping of excerpts from Mogwai's Young Team or the Sonic Youth-isms dripping from some of the guitar build-ups. Still, the members of Kinski, like a stubborn weed in a thicket of thorns, grow past their numerous predecessors at times, unearthing moments of pure psychotropic bliss.
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Too often, Airs Above Your Station feels scattered and fades into the background too easily.
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It's all too much like a fumbling Pink Floyd tribute, continually reaching a point where the psychedelica fails to follow up with the required kick, allowing the whole fragile structure to collapse into self-indulgence and bathetic kitsch.
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Overtly aping Mogwai, Jessamine and the entirely mediocre Bardo Pond, Kinski's aimless, ten-minute jams fail to deliver sonically or structurally, content to wallow in self-satisfied discovery, using distortion pedals to mask their junior varsity musicianship.