by Heather Phares
The For Carnation's self-titled, long-awaited follow-up to Marshmallows finds the group shedding their most obvious post-rockisms in favor of a slow, smoky sound steeped in paranoia and claustrophobia. As sparse and stealthy as ever, the For Carnation's songs now have a heightened, eye-of-the-storm drama that sets every creeping bassline, guitar, or keyboard fill into stark relief. Tense strings, spacey echoes, and other dark sonic details punctuate Brian McMahan's hushed vocals, coloring them somewhere between reflective and threatening. Though the ghost of jazzy, Tortoise-style post-rock still hovers around &Snoother,& songs like the spectral &Tales (Live From the Crypt),& the soundtrack-ready &Emp. Man's Blues,& and the disconcerting instrumental &Being Held& are much more emotionally immediate than the cerebral leanings of most of the band's contemporaries. The For Carnation's implosive dread is so expressive, yet so quiet, that it sounds like it's seeped inside your head. Ultimately, that's far more unsettling than any cranked-up rant.