Pitchfork

The last time an Aereogramme album made it to the U.S. was back in 2003, through the auspices of Matador Records. Sleep and Release had listeners wondering whether this Scottish outfit were greater fans of bombastic Quarterstick bands, bombastic Touch & Go bands, or bombastic arena-rock bands. In 2006, they're finally seeing their 2004 record hit North American shores. While the 30-minute Seclusion is their shortest full-length, it's no less eclectic or bombastic.

The inspirations Aereogramme draw on this time have shifted a bit. When they go pop, they sound less like an above-average indie group and more like the loudest and most exacting guitar band to never get their chance at the platinum ring. "Inkwell", the leadoff track, barrels along atop over-amped strumming and new-wavey synth squiggles, while the cheeky Flaming Lips cover "Lightning Strikes the Postman" is the devil-horned head-banger, complete with wanky guitar solo. Aereogramme also knows how to pitch some beautiful string-laden woo, as on the self-explanatory "I Don't Need Your Love".

On the other hand, when the group gets serious, they recall any number of reclusive and thoughtful metal groups. Catch a Tool fan off-guard with "Bridges" and they might think Maynard James Keenan is involved with yet another side project. "The Unraveling" plays out like a 10-minute cinematic tribute to Aereogramme's future In The Fishtank collaborators Isis, right down to the clicking of the projector reels and the tortured screams. The filmic approach is carried over into the album's closing track, an instrumental appropriately titled "Alternate Score". Regardless of which pose the band strikes, their Albini-esqe Wall of Sound production technique bombards the listener with Everest-sized drums and glorious sheets of feedback that only the most jaded listeners will be able to resist.

Overall, this is a strong set of songs, but it still feels off. Having one-third of the running time taken up by the underwhelming "Unraveling" doesn't help, and packing this much fantastically overblown genre splicing into such a small package sells the group's strengths short. In other words, less is less, not more. Intentionally or otherwise, Seclusion comes off more as a teaser for an upcoming full-length than a complete album. And if that was in fact the purpose of this disc, then mission accomplished, you blue-balling bastards.