I'm gonna have a hard time recommending an album with this much shitty, unabashed wankery. But damnit, I'll give it a shot. First, though, some words from Geoff Farina himself:

"Many of the lyrical images and ideas on this recording come from the 'free' writing that I have done almost every day since the summer of 1998 to the present... Although most of the results are predictably useless and boring, the interesting remainder [again] often contains ideas that I never would've composed by any other method. After awhile, I developed a storehouse of lyrical notions from which I drew as I worked on these songs."

Yes, Geoff, that you did. As it turns out Farina unpacked much more of that dank storehouse than he should have. The trajectory of Reverse Eclipse is an upside-down bell curve, that precariously situates its quality material atop beginning and ending crests, around an abysmally deep trench of loungy detritus, cornball jazz fret-petting, and beat-inspired (or rather expired) lyrics.

Last time we checked in with Geoff, he'd just released a fine, if similarly afflicted album with his band Karate. Unsolved marked a departure from the merely jazz-laced, but very successful rock of The Bed is in the Ocean into full-on attempts at guitar jazz. The transition wasn't smooth but it was gutsy and, for the most part, the masturbatory guitar segments were tempered in ickiness by Farina's vocal delivery and the input of his bandmates.

Reverse Eclipse, however, is an entirely different beast. It is, after all, a solo album where Geoff finds himself unfettered by outside input and considerations, thus perfectly free to chase his jazzy muse deep into the jungles of self-indulgence like some second-rate jazz-club Marlow after his guitar-hero Kurtz. The resulting storyline is dodgy, and sometimes spectacularly bad.

The album lulls with a sweet, solid beginning, setting things up for a shove off the quality-precipice into the album's middle section. "Special Diamonds," the opener, features appropriately restrained jazz-guitar noodling between well-paced vocal phrases. Unlike on later disasters, the lyrics here are intelligible and engaging, written from the peripatetic perspective of a sensitive indie rockstar on tour, always taking care to pick out souvenirs for his girl from whatever town he might find himself in. Awwww. "The Left-Handed Way" (uh, no, it's not about that) could have been plucked off Farina's first solo effort, Usonian Dream Sequence. Pretty and melancholy, 100% jazz-free, and full of pretty melody delivered at Farina's usual breathy, unhurried pace. "Fire" is stylistically identical, with a particularly strong chorus.

Then, without warning, he slams into a wall. Even the song titles start to suck. "Henningson or Hemingway" would do fine for background music over a very stiff drink at the sort of militantly uncool lounge/bar your rich great uncle might hang out at. You can flush "Gravity" and "Pordeone Plaster" down the same tube. Like the worst moments of Unsolved, these tracks sound like baroque parodies of jazz-club music. Both the guitar and vocal phrasing make Farina sound scatter-brained, rushed, and amateurish. Don't get me wrong, both Farina and guest guitarist Josh Larue can play. The problem is, anxious Geoff wants to pour the entirety of his journal entries into two or three sentences, and cram every note he can fret into tiny spaces. There are even moments when it sounds like Farina might become completely unhinged and start scatting. Add hideous strings of rhymes ("Shallow, cool, and shaded/ A carnet or affidavit/ You're as much liberated from all future red tape") to the mix, and there's just not much to stick around for.

Then, a light at the end of the tunnel, "Soon in Tents." He's still in the tunnel, but the air is slightly less fetid, the guitar solos are noticeably more tasteful, and the tempo is less jittery. "The Rights" is daybreak, finally; he's back in Usonian Dream Sequence territory, and pretty much stays there for the album's very enjoyable remainder. If you dig softly strummed, drumless and bare music with introspection and sadness galore you'll enjoy this. The stars of the bunch are "Only Yellows," which features the repetition of long, meandering guitar phrases so typical of Karate. "Olive and Otherwise," meanwhile, successfully combines jazzy chord progressions with a pop melody and the album's closer "Fixable."

Reverse Eclipse, with all its treacherous pot-holes, has a greater quantity of strong material than the somewhat dissolute Usonian Dream Sequence. This album, however, is substantially more inconsistent and you've got to hack some points off for that. It would be best for all involved if Farina would keep his self-indulgence in check and find a better balance between the pop he can write so well and the new influences vying for his attention. My suggestion is that he keep writing those sweet, super-wussy songs that serve him so well, and release all his guitar-hero stuff under the moniker Jazzy Geoff.

-Camilo Arturo Leslie