This is another one of the record reviews I wrote for the short-lived but dandy Central Florida publication The Independent Journal. Enon was a band I hadn’t heard of — to my recollection, anyway — before becoming the General Manager and Staff Advisor for the campus radio station at Rollins College, but they were a favorite of some key staff members. The students even got the band to come into the station and play a live, on-air set. I carried around a CD copy of that performance for ages. It was my actual favorite Enon album. I’m selecting this for this week’s “From the Archive” offering in part to provoke me to write a new album review this week, if for no other reason than I’ve got a perfect album to write on.
One of the charms of an Enon album is the tendency to be sort of all over the place. It’s not the snarky dabbling of They Might Be Giants or anything like that. It’s more of a restless curiosity. One can imagine a shrug and an impassive “Well, hell, let’s just try it” immediately preceding the recording of the punky “Litter in the Glitter” or “Storm the Gates,” with its arid guitar riff that sound a little like something you find on a Velvet Underground song (or at least on a song by a band that’s trying really hard to sound like the Velvet Underground). This album isn’t quite as consistently successful at being simultaneously surprising and satisfying as its predecessor, last year’s High Society. For one thing, some of the songs anchored by Enon’s unique brand of languidly elastic disco grooves feel like they’re just waiting on the corner for the bus to Remixville.
4 stars, out of 5