Unrest
Malcolm X Park

THE REVIEW

A crossroads between the emotive hardcore of the early '80s and the disorganizing attitude typical of certain '90s rock.

More restrained in experimentation compared to the excellent Tink Of Southeast and decidedly distant from the existential and nervous minimalism in Feelies style of the beautiful Imperial f.f.r.r.

"Malcolm X Park" represents perhaps the manifesto of Unrest: avant-garde tendencies are channeled into mostly short, intense tracks with communicative urgency always at the forefront. In terms of eclecticism and essentiality, it can even remind one of Pixies' "Doolittle," if only because in both cases we are faced with a healthy intellectualism, a rock that is cultured in intention, but never presumptuous in results.

Sudden garage bursts in fits and starts (title track), power pop variations of past pieces (Can't Sit Still), parodic covers of bands of dubious taste (Strutter) where we even find a drunk Elvis chatting with Pere Ubu (Stranger in My Own Hometown), frantic western-tinged rides (Dago Red).

And then proto Slint portraits on Sonic Youth-esque frames (The Gas Chair), acidic prayers alternating with noise explosions (Lucifer Rising), gothic melancholy reminiscent of Wire (The Hill), a nod to Television (Disko Magic) and then... the beautiful ballad, tender and nervous, that foreshadows the spleen of the following Imperial f.f.r.r. (Christina).

Ah, the mind behind Unrest goes by the name of Mark Robinson.

And blah blah blah

Must be bought over here.