What if it reflects the communicative failures of brooding masculine figures? Or test drives studio tricks? Or is a sonic game of Concentration!? Or piles up clarifications, addendums, and corrections borne by self-reflexive cleverness and Yorke-ian magnetic poetry? COOL MUSIC JOURNALISM, DUDES! http://pitchfork.com/re…

FYI, that opener was The Subjects, who have since morphed into Caveman, who I bet you would not trash on, Doctor.