Pitchfork

County Police parked this little trailer on the entrance road to my neighborhood. It sat there for a week. On the back of this little trailer was a bright red, two- digit LED and blue reflective "POLICE" text. Inside the white cube on wheels was a radar gun that would clock your speed, then display it to you as you zoomed by. Neighborhood watch got it to curtail speeding. I, however, found simple pleasures in seeing just how high a MPH I could register on the sucker before the curve around the lake. My record was 59. On the other hand, a friend of mine tried to see how slow a speed he could register. He once slugged by at 1 MPH. There's probably some nifty psychological lesson lying latent in there somewhere.

Far is a band stuck with both the dichotic personalities of me and my friend-- sometimes they try to see just how aggressive they can get, while at other times they tenderly pick and quietly pluck. Perhaps it has something to do with the region of my brain that makes me rocket past the Police trailer, but I find Far much more engaging when they rock out. Luckily, there are no shortage of heavy rockers on Water and Solutions, but Far occasionally shines, thanks to their melody and emotion. They're not just growling. In fact, their singer can actually carry a tune! At their best, Far come off as metal- tinged emo-core; a hard rock band not swimming in their own testoterone. Then there are the flat moments of attempted subdued grace. The second half of the album bogs down in lengthy ballads after a semi- thrilling opening. It's like those kiddie rollercoasters, where you go up a hill that you think will drop you to heart- stopping fear, but then actually just rolls down about five feet to a flat track and allows you to experience minor back pain. Playing slow and quiet does not automatically infuse beauty and artistic credibility. Sometimes it just makes you boring.

After listening to Water and Solutions, I feel as frustrated as the County Police Department must after looking over the radar records and trying to make sense of my demonic velocity and my pal's terrapin crawl. I want to really like Far. They do bring more to the table than most heavy bands out there. But every moment of pleasure is counter- balanced with shrugged- off frustration.