Miami natives
Lansing-Dreiden relish their status as industry eccentrics. Little is known about the group besides the fact that they refer to themselves as part of a progressive design, video, and art company, reside in New York, and refuse to play live or do face to face interviews. This kind of artistic pretense can backfire if the sum of its posturing is crap, but occasionally an enigma produces a product that proves just as fascinating as the faceless crew that created it.
Incomplete Triangle's liner notes quote mathematician Dascha Mas: "The incomplete triangle's three sides face a reflective horizon. Its three-sided face disappears into a black mirror. You can oftentimes only see the rope that ties it together." That's a heady way of saying that this record is divided into three sections that are loosely related. Section one is the most cohesive, opting for a clinical blend of garage rock and dream pop, the brilliant and seething "Metal from a Gun," that recalls the genre hopping of the
the Damned and the murky swell of early-'90s modern rock bands like
the Pale Saints and
Ride. Section two begins a slow decline into pre-industrial
Ministry and Manchester Brit-pop, eventually giving way to
New Order in its concluding chapter with the pulsing closer "Desert Lights."
Incomplete Triangle is deceptive. While the music is well executed, the songs are unable to convey anything besides elitist sleight of hand irony and self-promotion, resulting in a chilly celebration of the birth of alternative rock.
Lansing-Dreiden's intentions are far removed from genre love letters like
the Darkness'
Permission to Land or
XTC's psychedelic alter ego
the Dukes of Stratosphear's
Chips from the Chocolate Fireball, but as far as business cards go,
Incomplete Triangle is worth a follow-up call.