As of April, the Mekons' latest gets my vote for album cover of the year. But as we all know, you can't judge a record by its cover. Honestly, I prefer the Mekons' rock to the Mekons' roll; it's a bias that's made this record hard to review. I can't trash them for not doing what I want them to-- that would be ridiculous. So how can I objectively discuss this lazy, hazy collection of half-conscious ballads? I think back to my favorite Pink Floyd record, The Final Cut, and, recalling its seesaw poignancy ("The Gunner's Dream") and piss ("Not Now John"), I aim to give the Mekons as much due in exploring their concept record.

Strikingly analogous to Yo La Tengo's latest-- both in appearance and import-- the Mekons' Journey to the End of the Night is a dour compilation of bleak, retired verse. It's so black, in fact, the music is invisible. Nothing can penetrate the funereal prose and its equally morose delivery. "City of London" is a standout pop piece compositionally, but both the production and the performances are somehow muted and depressed. Even the danceable pub-reggae of "Tina"-- like everything here-- rams nihilism and resignation down our throats; there's no room for the beer with this load of sorrows to swallow.

Journey to the End of the Night is a lengthy ride straight through someone's recent tumults, and it never lets up, unlike almost every other record they've released. By the seventh track, "Cast No Shadows," lyrics like "the ink spills in the darkness" are just too much. The song's well written, with great vocal melodies and a nice reggae plod reminiscent of recent His Name is Alive material, but the general impression left is that of yet another happily miserable rant.

"Powers and Horrors" sends me back to Floyd's The Final Cut-- it's a straight funeral dirge, piano and chorale vocals. Press packets reveal none of this record's back-story, which is unfortunate, because by now it's obvious something's amiss in the Mekons' camp. Thankfully, "Neglect" aims to wake us from our hosts' troubles with a nice, countrified rumble that begs for £10,000 and our forgiveness. But with the exhausting and beautiful ballad "Something to Be Scared Of" as a follow-up, the band skirts their end of the bargain, again leading us to the pyres.

The soul/reggae beats on "Last Night on Earth" ends this long and ragged night, serving as an apology for the band's inability to smile on this outing. But if anyone, we can forgive as weathered and honest a band as the Mekons for a selfish set: that they know they've indulged themselves is admission enough of what's unfair about this otherwise haunting record.

-Chris Ott