Songs testify to the revolutionary power of art (“Pistola”), television included (“Talk Show on Mute”). The singer asks if the woman he loves shares his feelings on “Southern Girl.” “Zee Deveel” points to the inherently depraved, materialistic nature of man. The band mourns the human cost of military violence (“Made for TV Movie”).
A person who crawls into bed at 3 a.m. reeking of wine and cigarettes is deemed “beautiful” (“Beware! Criminal”). The singer respects a loose partygoer for having sex with him (“Here in My Room”). He employs the f-word while railing against a former lover who has become a “Leech.” The obscenity reappears on “Agoraphobia,” which calls men “apes with ego trips.” “Megalomaniac” criticizes a narcissist, subtly equating the king of rock ‘n’ roll with the King of Kings. A bonus DVD includes profanity, cartoon breast nudity and the bloody depiction of a severed foot.
The atmospheric soundscapes of 2001’s Morning View have been replaced with dissonant, jazz-inflected rock and an influx of obscene content. This five-man band from California seems to be heading in the wrong direction.