"In this land of wounded narcissists….."
Dead Cinema's second, unforgotten-for-never-having-been noticed ode to the imitation of life, The Loners, is more burlesque, perhaps preoccupied stylistically with lampooning anti-hero icons, or iconicity itself, albeit in Dead Cinema's short form of tradition, goofily and self-reflexively removed from the characters and genres alluded to (assuming they exist), and more rambunctious than their premier. Walk-ons continue to be welcome. But let's not get ahead of yourselves. After all the gabbing is done, as if taking the rubric literally, Dead Cinema's second LP starts with appropriateur extrodinaire Mr. Strange crooning a paean to Jack Smith in the more sensitive, foreboding territory where Portmanteau left off. Steadily, the mania escalates from there. Mr. Breeden and Ms. Johanne are on shore leave again, employing the old whimsically deplorable moral relativism to festive result, summing things up with a demented spiritual in the land of their fathers' sepulchers.
If nothing else can be generalised amid the declivitous slide of planetary empire, it's arguably that the great tragedy could lie in the subtlety that is lost in the face of sectarian wrangling and the attendant more pressing concerns of a diminishing biosphere. Or that everybody's just so damn full of themselves. In any case, Dead Cinema was waiting for the call, but it never came. Maybe they should've gotten a phone. But, at the end of the day, when it comes down to it….when your back's against the wall, when push comes to shove, when you're in a crowd of howling, obese, shall we courteously call them, formerly ladies….
released March 12, 2013
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