Skeletal Lamping

Following a dramatic statement of purpose like Hissing Fauna, it shouldn’t be too surprising that listening to Skeletal Lamping is a bit of a let-down, but, when removed of comparisons and expectations, it’s still a nonsensical dancefloor freakfest that only Kevin Barnes could pull off--and, really, what more could you ask of Kevin Barnes?

Barnes and company's ninth studio album isn't as catchy or cohesive as the past few, hitting upon sublime moments--like when he quietly asks "Why I am so damaged?"--that are frustratingly few and far between.

Skeletal Lamping is by no means a bad album; rather, after such an organic and fully realized career milestone as Hissing Fauna, the difficulty of finding a new direction is a creatively arduous one, and of Montreal’s experimentation here is notable overall.

Skeletal Lamping is the brain dump of a troubled psyche, and you shouldn’t feel too bad if you ultimately don’t get it. I don’t think you’re supposed to.

Picking through the skewed rhythms and electronic tics takes patience, but it is occasionally rewarded with poppy pleasures.

Given that the record is so nominally personal and probing, it’s telling that there is not one moment of transcendence, or relief, or acceptance, or melody, or substance.

Ultimately Skeletal Lamping registers as a misstep, but not without loads of silver lining.

This is a love-it-or-lump-it album, a polarizing effort that--depending on personal preference--is either irresistibly attractive or laughably, overzealously pretentious.