(Tomlab)

Muppet indie rock

Toronto artist Chris A. Cummings’ latest album, after a six-year hiatus, is an eclectic and clumsy mix-up of sounds. There is an entire track devoted to crying at the cinema and it’s just as awkward as the description. If the subject matter strikes you as a bit odd, it also doesn’t help that Cummings’ vocals remind me of a monotone Kermit The Frog. There are some promising moments in the album but the songs shift genres before they can ever realize that potential. The lyrics are often off-putting and placed together like nursery rhymes. “Childman, that is what you am” in Childman is not only grammatically incorrect but poorly rhymed. In Stride is a step away from the sad melodic ambience with a more upbeat tempo; but it is short-lived and quickly digresses back into a sensibly experimental area. The album is a collection of melancholy pop that aimlessly meanders and never really goes anywhere.

CHELSEA HEANEY

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