Minus The Bear owes a reasonable chunk of their genetic code to the most forgettable of ‘90s rock, and they act like they’re acutely aware of it, desperately trying to break away from the legacy of The Nixons and Candlebox with contrived complexity: Unexpected tempo shifts, motivic changes, chopped samples, sequenced keyboards, and a generally sectional approach to what otherwise might be perfectly pleasant riff rock.
Drummer Erin Tate is jaw-droppingly flawless throughout. My analytical lobes always welcome the change of pace whenever he charges to the forefront mid-song to define the groove of whatever disjunct little section is coming up next. But the lobes where I keep the things I love always feel like they’re just being asked to pay attention to a constant stream of new and shiny things that are otherwise devoid of substance. During their performance, you can almost see how these songs were written: Every minute or so, there’s a new “Hey guys check this out” moment.
And sure, some of those nuggets are clever, but I’m not so sure about the lasting replay value of this stuff. Because once I’ve checked them all out, what then?
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