The Cars Are the Stars is what the Postal Service would be with a spookier undertow and song structures as loose as ball bearings dropped on slick marble. Fragments has lofty ceilings and oceanic depths, songs that sound like underwater caverns populated with analog synths. The Cars Are the Stars, like Sigur Ros and Manitoba, understand the epic potential in sewing hypnotic beats to slurred guitar, the potential to wed hugeness with intimacy in a contrary marriage. "Silent" erupts with nervously jangled drums, and Oliver and Kate Combault's softly scarring vocals climb over one another like naked crank freaks. Fragments comforts twice as much as it perturbs, a bold electronic instrumental hybrid with enough nicks and cuts to break the bough while soothing you listless with glitchy lullabies.
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