Reviews

Run Chico Run

This tinfoil-helmeted indie ditty telegraphs its paranoia through subject matter and structure alike. Jittery, nervous guitars constrict and snap in harried rhythm while birds are revealed as spybots and "The footage is beamed back to central headquarters/Where all of the agents know their orders." Who says police-state horror has to...

By Ray Cummings

April 6, 2006

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This tinfoil-helmeted indie ditty telegraphs its paranoia through subject matter and structure alike. Jittery, nervous guitars constrict and snap in harried rhythm while birds are revealed as spybots and "The footage is beamed back to central headquarters/Where all of the agents know their orders." Who says police-state horror has to be Radiohead dismal?

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