Audio By Carbonatix
Eschewing the discrete, alternating rock and alt-country interchanges of 2003’s Lovers, the Sleepy Jackson takes a mumbling drunk swing at “All Things Must Pass,” with a few glammy deflations of “God Only Knows” thrown in for kicks. Led by blandly interlocking harmonies and absentminded acoustic thrums, Jackson’s songs wind up closer to Bread than the Beach Boys, and Luke Steele’s Dean Wareham sinus-snit of a voice emphazises the act’s flimsiness. Throughout the album, on songs such as the disco-tinged “I Understand What You Want But I Just Don’t Agree,” the band massages its slush of influences into generic orchestral monotony. Personality has no punch, and whatever beauty it holds is sloppy and inexact, like watercolors dripping off the page. Imagine if people performed at Kennedy Center honors events really stoned, and you’ll get a feel for the staid, bleary uniformity that plagues this disc.
