THE RES­I­DENTS

San Fran odd­balls in­vade our heads.

Prog - - The Musical Box - DL

Fur­ther ev­i­dence that The Res­i­dents are re­ally en­joy­ing them­selves at the mo­ment, In­trud­ers con­cludes a year of fever­ish ac­tiv­ity. Fol­low­ing the sub­lime ‘pRE­Served’ edi­tions of their early al­bums and the per­verse, cut ‘n’ shut splurge of I Am A Res­i­dent!, the masked men­tal­ists’ 34th stu­dio al­bum is as be­wil­der­ing and ab­sorb­ing as any­thing they’ve re­leased in decades. A core theme of spec­tral, malev­o­lent fig­ures lurk­ing on the fringes of our frag­ile, in­ter­nal real­i­ties snakes its way through these 10 pe­cu­liar mar­riages of wonky art rock and cracked-mir­ror po­etry, with so many en­gag­ing mu­si­cal ideas and mo­ments of lyri­cal bril­liance. Each song tells its own woozily un­set­tling story, rang­ing from Voodoo Doll’s sleepy surf rock needle­work saga to the anx­ious, philo­soph­i­cal churn of the darkly serene End­less And Deep. As with last year’s train crash-themed The Ghost Of Hope, this is a top-notch jour­ney down The Res­i­dents’ rab­bit hole and one that stands tall along­side early clas­sics like Eskimo and Finger­prince. It’s all wildly evoca­tive: as eerie show-closer Shad­ows ebbs away, you may find your­self check­ing over your shoul­der for signs of your own ghoul­ish stalkers.

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