Audio By Carbonatix
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?
This year, make your gift count –
Invest in local news that matters.
Our work is funded by readers like you who make voluntary gifts because they value our work and want to see it continue. Make a contribution today to help us reach our $30,000 goal!
