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Mi Media Naranja
With slippery, twangy guitars that would make John Barry or Ennio Morricone smile, LaBradford have always suggested the cinematic rather than the bombastic. Eschewing drums, their latest Kranky release pits their spy-guitar aesthetic against long repetitive loops of retro-jazz keyboard, lazy cello, droning church organ, and sampled machine noise. The tunes are titled quixotically as well: Track one, "S"--an aquatic journey through a spaghetti Western oasis--leads into track two, "F"--an eight-note mantra that repeats as glassy slide guitar and a hushed, backwards voice intimate the David Lynch of Lost Highway and Twin Peaks. Never losing a sense of mystery and what Gaston Bachelard called "the poetics of space," LaBradford is the rock band most likely to succumb--to the fever of the unknown, the madness of the infinite. --James Rotondi
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