The album positions itself as the logical end-point of rock, with its multiple genre parodies and ironisation of melody. Its pairing of singalong tunes with incomprehensible lyrics seems designed to frustrate the listener. But the flipside is that each track is so unpredictable β ready to change pace on a dime, to pierce a mood with a dissonant chord, to throw in a blast of killer hook without context. This is as expressionist as rock can get, with every impulse, hesitation and afterthought recorded for posterity. - Lesley Chow, The Quietus
