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The band would do better churning out decent punk tracks like the album openers "Zombie King" and "Treat." But the insipid hipster pose of "Dirty Snow" and its ridiculous lyrics kill the disc's momentum. Later, players Michele McBride and Robert O'Lexa fuse ethereal keyboards with military drumbeats, and a closing acoustic ballad increases the confusion. The disc displays potential, but the disjointed mess feels like a lesson on how quickly ambitious music can degenerate into artsy-fartsy esotericism.