This record hurts. It hurts because just when it seems like the Microdots realize the power in their dub-like rhythmic variations, Orkid turns on itself. Going from the attractive and dirty basement shakiness of "Crazy Maraca" to a tawdry slow drip like "Tangerine" seems unfair — safe, even. The quartet then inches back toward its more desirable, melodica-infused and ragged beats with "Human Nature," but it's a trick: "Slow Dive" follows with a tonal sameness that stretches, noodles and wears itself thin for an almost unbearable eight minutes. At first it feels like this eight-song EP is suffering from an identity crisis of sorts, an inability by a group of strong musicians to commit to one musical direction. But, really, Orkid just sounds like the victim of security-blanket syndrome, a band playing it too safe to create what could possibly be a radical neo-dub recording.