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As much as we all want to be Radiohead, most of us
do not go out with our samplers, take a random sampling of
technological and generally unearthly noises, accumulate equally
sterile and desperate artwork, mix in some drum machines and
striated guitar lines, and call the result: I Am Compltley
Oprationa L. Of course, this critique runs the risk that
the Epidemic has never listened to Ok Computer,
or that having listened to that album, they fall into the
small group of people that do not define their lives around
it. Perhaps unfortunately, every album that concerns itself
with the fragility of the individual against the supposed
technological cures of sleeping pills, professional responsibilities,
and airports (to the degree that these are used as outlets
for existential angst) will be compared with the experimental
Brits. But if you throw in disjointed phrases for lyrics
and juxtapose lullaby-ish and delicate atmospheres against
off-kilter drum machine beats and intentionally awkward and
distracting loops, you asked for it.
Perhaps this explains why the insert contains as little information
about the band as possible. The insert does contain pictures
of a building, focusing on the windows as mirrors and highlighting
the white and blue coloration. The remainder of the artwork
incorporates hand-drawn images and random signs silhouetted
against pictures of skies, streetlights, barbed wire, buildings,
tiles, and other objects mis-focused into obscurity. The
signs include: bar codes, computer keyboards, computer code,
emergency signs, and random numbers and letters. Whites,
blues, deep greens, and grays make up the majority of the
color scheme. Only the stick figures with large heads are
missing.
The music itself delivers some interesting sections, but
the songs soon seem to be directed more by influence than
inspiration. The Epidemic simply do not have enough ideas
on this record to compose any vision that can be considered
substantial. Most of the songs either rely on a few random
phrases that utilize the central motif of the album. This
motif relies on the use of disjunction, often in conjunction
with repetition. This disjunction includes the misspellings
of the title (“compltely” and “oprationa l”); lyrics (around
two o’clock, round two: clock versus city from “The West
Coast as a Robot” and How in the way is your hand? How
in the way your hand is from “Torn from the Head”); and
the music itself which often relies on a loop intentionally
placed offbeat or sections repeated without lining up the
same way each time. The Epidemic use this motif thoroughly
but rarely with any penetration. Kid A also employs
this style, and a comparison quickly reveals where it succeeds.
The repetition of lyrics in “Everything in Its Right Place”
conveys frustration, confusion, and desperation (insinuating
that everything is not in its right place); the loops of “Kid
A” mix a lullaby with a carnival, a computer voice with a
pitch-man, and again the result is eerie and twistedly calm;
“National Anthem” frantically tries to maintain a sense of
cohesion and unity against a tumult of brass noise. That
album uses the tools of repetition and disjunction to render
the extreme personal drama of understanding identity as a
positive and creative endeavor in a world that continually
undercuts this hope more persuasive. For the Epidemic, these
tools create a minor ripple that registers more as a game
than as the ultimate problem of our existence.
The music does contain moments of insight, but these never
congeal into a substantial vision. Most of the interesting
work occurs on the guitar: the first, third, and fifth tracks
each contain guitar lines with a strong sense of movement
that balances fluidity and awkward timing. This balance would
make a greater thematic point if carried throughout the music,
but the keyboards and percussion do not contain this sense
of struggle in an honest and dramatic sense. The peculiarities
of percussion are mostly artificial – there is no sense of
a beat struggling against itself, but rather a programmer
attempting to be complex. This sense of artificiality pervades
the album. Unfortunately, the approach does not describe
the wrestling of an individual against this artificiality;
it reveals instead a band’s attempt to recreate a perceived
notion of artificiality from the world. Aside from a few
guitar tracks, no sense of struggle exists.
A vast gap remains between the recognition that our world
contains numerous technologically inspired pitfalls and the
ability to cast these pitfalls in such a light as to show
how overwhelming they can seem and how desperate must be our
attempts to overcome them. In music or any medium trying
to capture this, repetition and syncopation can imply a maze-like
quality, a sense of running into a wall whose solution is
written right before you in a code that is at once hideously
untranslatable and yet deeply consistent with the turmoil
in your head. But these tools only supply the form of the
maze. The Epidemic have hinted at a miniature version of
this maze, but they do not give a sense of urgency for escaping
it or the tools for doing so. I Am Compltley Oprationa
L fails in its inability to encompass the totality of
this struggle.
— Matt King
Track Listing:
- The West Coast As A Robot
- Torn From The Head
- Lines Of Tomorrow
- The Shortness Of Breath
- An Introduction
- Robert Smith Vs. Crosstown Music
- Boom, For Real
- Once Upon A Time There Was A Prints
- If You Lived Here You’d Be Home By Now
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