[Ring]

"Hello, Pitchfork Reviews and Fried Chicken. Mandy speaking."

[incoherent mumbling]

"I'm sorry, sir. You'll have to speak up."

"I said, this is Steven. I can't come into work today. I'm [cough, cough] sick. Oh, I hurt so bad. Feels like I swallowed a fork."

"Right. So, what exactly do you mean 'not coming in?' You're telling me that you're too terminally ill to drag your lazy carcass three feet from your bed to your computer?"

"Umm... yes... no... I mean..."

"You just don't have a review ready, do you?"

"Oh sure... I do... I... oh god, it's true. I'm so ashamed!"

"Hush, hush, Steven. Auntie Mandy is here for you. Now, tell me what's wrong."

"Well, I got this CD by these guys called the Dark Fantastic..."

"Ooh, good name."

"I know... well, they're on Up Records..."

"The label out of Washington? 764-Hero, Modest Mouse, Built to Spill..."

"Right. Well, I was gonna use that as the angle for the review, that whole compare/ contrast to similar bands, and the scam was perfect. I mean, the review would practically write itself. I wouldn't even have to crack open the CD. It was gonna be phat-ass sweet."

"So, what's the problem?"

"Well, I popped the CD in as a goof, and it's nothing like those other guys! I mean, this is completely new stuff, and I just don't know what to do with it. If I initiated my original plan, I'd sound like an idiot, but if I don't turn something in, I'll be fired. Then I'll be banned from the Pitchfork executive sauna and five- star golf course! Oh, the sauna bubbles, like fine, warm champagne..."

"Whoa, come back to me, kid. Look, here's what you do: first, listen to the album."

"Done."

"Okay, now just say what you liked about it."

"Really? Uh, okay. I mean, the album is good. Not a classic, but it's a pretty enjoyable slice of sonic pie. A very good first effort."

"A slice of sonic pie? Where do you writer types get this stuff? Anyway, is there anything about the album that stands out?"

"Well, sure there is. Mark Pickerel from the Screaming Trees fronts the band, and his voice is a gold medal winner-- warm and soft in places, cold and dark in others, he switches gears faster than a tuned- up muscle car. Plus, he sings his own harmony parts, which makes all the vocal arrangements smooth and lush. It may just be a studio trick, but I found myself humming along more than once."

"Good, good. Anything else?"

"The music is always top- shelf. The band's sound wanders around to everything from a country vibe ("While You Were Leaving"), to Leonard Cohen-ish gloom music ("Valentine"), back to catchy pop tunes (Track Thirteen). And it's all dark and moody without being boring, more melancholy than sad."

"You said track thirteen? Untitled?"

"No, one of those hidden thingies, which is a shame 'cause it's the best track on the album. It's about making out with a girl after her dad dies. And that's another thing-- every song on this album is a good story; a guy who lives his life through old black- and- white TV shows, a hometown boy on the run from the law, stuff like that. It's a kind of songwriting you don't hear much anymore, like old campfire storytelling."

"Interesting. So, is there anything bad about the album?"

"A few things, but not many. The opening track, "I'm No Good," is just plain terrible. It sounds like music for an alien porno film-- all '80s synthesizers and weak, syncopated beats. It's a pretty weak choice for the first track, because the rest of the album sounds nothing like it. Plus, the beats can get kind of stale in places. They're too repetitive, and in some rare instances, even kinda stupid. The lyrics tend to run hot and cold, too. On most of the tracks the lyrics are clever ("If you're living in the past/ You can move in with me"), but Pickerel isn't afraid to fire up the cliche-o-matic when he needs to. Still, these are only a few minor blotches on an otherwise strong album."

"So you liked it?"

"Yeah, I did. It's a little different than I expected, but still good. More fine music from the boys and girls at Up records. Hey wait, I did it. I wrote the review! Wow, that wasn't so hard."

"Uh-huh. So, are you going to be a big boy and start writing these things for yourself? I got work to do here. Oh, and I know you ripped off this phone call gimmick from Nick Mirov's 764-Hero review. At least their name is an actual phone number. You're just lame."

"Uh... I gotta go... [cough, cough]... stomach pains... [click]."

-Steven Byrd