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"Assassination of X-Mas Eve" (low quality) "Assassination of X-Mas Eve" (high quality)
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Creative Loafing in the Archers' airport cantina
All the Nation's Airports (Alias) Crossing the country used to be an adventure, a test of endurance. Now all you have to do is keep your seatbelt fastened when the seatbelt light is on and accept honey-roasted peanut packets from people with toothy smiles and epaulets. The real endurance test, these days, happens before the plane takes off, in the airport. It takes nerve to withstand the insipid decor, overpriced fast food, and pushy crowds in what's essentially a cross between a shopping mall and a hospital waiting room. Nerve, and a good sense of humor. The Archers of Loaf have both in spades. All the Nation's Airports, their latest release, is a high-spirited romp through the carpeted corridors and stainless-steel bathrooms of the modern age. Adorned with a cover picture of a runway at night and liner notes labelled "Boarding Pass," it's also a tongue-in-cheek reprise of the "concept album," right down to the song listings, grouped by "Arrivals" and "Departures." Even the tunes themselves tie in. From the giddy title track to the wistful "Scenic Pastures," these are meditations on travel, distance, and technology. "Strangled by the Stereo Wire," the jerky opener, sets the tone. Eric Bachman sings about media distortion--"the public protest and the false alarm"--as effects-laden guitars crunch in the background. High-pitched electronic beeps mince through "Assassination on X-Mas Eve," while the lovely "Rental Sting" features aren't-we-alienated lines like "Our distance is disguised/The customer is king." Environmental degradation factors both in the hard-driving "Distance Comes in Droves," about oil drilling ("evil creeps along the coastline/underneath the belly of Alaska"), and "Chumming the Ocean," a melancholy dirge that deals with the barbarity of corporate fishing. The album's lyrics are both sadder and more political than past Archer efforts. Luckily, the band's musical sense of fun remains intact on rockers like "Vocal Shrapnel" and "Worst Defense." If nothing quite has the scrappy urgency that made "Web in Front" memorable, there are plenty of satisfying forays into the indie guitar-rock territory the band has established, not to mention enough atmospheric noodling to makePavement proud. The songs slide together and feed off each other, Wowee Zowee-style, but there's no slap-happy sloppiness; they're solid and carefully constructed.
--Darby Saxbe
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