Low bassist Zak Sally must feel like the most repressed rock and roller in the world. Under the thumb of his Mormon bandmates he's always getting told "play less," "play prettier," and to "stop singing along and ruining the harmonies." Needless to say, dour, vaguely Christian slow- core is not the best ticket to getting lots of groupie sex, nor is it a good way for you to indulge frantic stage moves.

Which is probably why poor, repressed Mr. Sally has another outlet for at least some of those urges. Enemymine's EP probably won't get him or his bandmates laid, unless the Melvins, or possibly the withered prunes in Black Sabbath, have any stale groupies to spare. But, one rock fantasy at a time, kids: this disc is comprised mostly of the type of sludge rock that lets Sally bang his head along with something like a beat. Songs start vaguely quiet and pretty, then suddenly turn into shit- flinging godheadSilo- esque rock- outs. Somebody is screaming in the mix, but given Calvin Johnson's kitchen sink production, you can't really make out what they are saying.

In fact, the whole record sounds kind of unpolished and almost teenaged in its lack of attention to detail. If the band had tossed in some more parts or hired a better engineer, perhaps this would have had more of an impact that it did. Perhaps for Sally, this is the point-- after recording one divine, polished record this year, he might have wanted to do something futz- like. If these were his intentions, then he can consider EP a success. In the meantime, the rest of us hope he's doing alright.

-Samir Khan