Spore's driving rhythms manage to come off both tribal and entirely synthetic, its keyboards cold and icy, and the wind instruments, which are the dank glue holding everything together, sound as if they must have originated in some cavern far beneath the surface of the earth. It's lush and luxuriant in a very alienating way, and it would make a good soundtrack to a movie you wouldn't let your kids watch: Sixty-odd minutes in, there's a moment when the title track breaks free from its already slight rhythm, and it's so dark and lonely that it'll make you want to put on your hat and gloves and just go home. Except that, in all likelihood, you're home already, and here's nowhere else to go -- which is exactly what the album has been driving at all along. Nice.
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