Doesn't it strike you as odd that, as our society steadily progresses towards linking everyone everywhere via some vast ethereal web of info (e.g., e-mail, cellphones), some of the best music out there celebrates our loneliness. Or rather, it seems more conducive for imagery of loneliness and isolation. Take, for example, Transmissionary Six, whose world-weary ballads conjure up dusty country roads rather than busy intersections, long stretches of twilit interstate in place of bustling city streets.
There are hints of other mopesters like Red House Painters, Luna, Knife in the Water, and even Angelo Badalamenti's work on Twin Peaks. But when you're treading the sort of lonely, wide open countrysides that Transmissionary Six has settled down in, those are merely signposts. It doesn't mean that "Rodeo Satellite" is any less affecting, with a sad, simple piano melody echoing Terri Moeller's gasping vocals ("Rodeo Satellite/Don't quote me on this but I think I've done it again").
In other places, Moeller's vocals and lyrics are an acquired taste, like those of Molasses and Hrsta. And like those groups, they don't always work. I'm assuming that the imagery of "Submarine" is meant to be surreal, but lines like "Cotton candy pillows for your circus peanut dreams/One more shot for you my submarine" seem a bit out of place when the music seems better suited for more barren imagery. Still, the album's overall mood remains strong enough, with a sense of distance and regret-laden nostalgia that's strong enough to shake any lyrical missteps.
