These days, it seems like people are afraid of using technique to their advantage, fearing the ridicule of being considered insufferable musical wankers. This comes into focus with a band like Beans. Stylistically, their music lies closer to modal minimalism than post-rock, but both styles are notably present.

Beans are definitely trying to create a feeling of wistful memory-- perhaps the afternoon someone died or the last time you they saw their former lovers. But ultimately, they fail to affect in the way they intend. Controlled dissonance abounds on the ethereal "Miko," yet nothing more than softly strummed guitar, atmospheric piano, and bass enters the mix. And the title track, rather than the startling display of originality it longs to be, is essentially early Tortoise boiled down to its most essential ingredients, sans vibes and sound layering. I mean, I understand that everything's supposed to sound like it's falling apart in "All-Encompassing Dust," but glaring musical mistakes distract me from falling apart with it.

Another strike against them: their music is loose and seemingly unpracticed. They're clearly not purposely playing discordant notes and fumbling their equipment to create an ambience of depression or personal deconstruction; they just attempt music that goes beyond their technical abilities. Tired Snow's sparse production doesn't help matters. In fact, it's counteractive-- it puts the instrumentation directly under the lens of judgment, making the band seem like ants running from the burning spot.

But the potential of these compositions saves Tired Snow from its undeniable amateurism. With a bit more rehearsal and more active production, Beans could display more ingenuity than incompetence, and create some genuinely powerful music. They're on the right track when they take measures to assure they don't overextend themselves-- "Dark Cave at Creek" tells a simple love story with a brief but beautiful poignancy-- but they could stand to do it more often. For instance, "Alpaca Llama" is a 16-minute performance piece recorded live with no overdubs (as indicated by the spoken intro and muddled crowd noise). On this track, the ambition is definitely present but never sees fulfillment. And by placing it at the end of a 38 minute-long EP, the band leaves the listener with an unpleasant feeling of anticlimax and drowsy disinterest.

Time could change this band for the better. All it would take is some restraint and gained technical proficiency, things that tend to come more naturally as bands progress. In the meantime, there are thousands of more satisfying records to spend money on.

-Craig Griffith