11 Songs, 43 Minutes

EDITORS’ NOTES

Conceived in the fallout from the breakup of the relationship between Comas leader Andy Herod and Dawson’s Creek star Michelle Williams, Conductor dwells not on the self-pity of lost love, but instead creates its own kind of wounded grandeur through a collage of alt-rock influences. From the caustic rush of “Invisible Drugs” to the power pop of “Employment,” Conductor proves that breakup albums aren’t always about moaning vocals and acoustic guitars (although Herod covers that area with the spare-yet-sweet “Falling”). There are those songs that follow Herod’s distinctive vision of fuzzed-out indie pop —“The Science of Your Mind,” “Moonrainbow” and “The Last Transmission” fall midway between the Technicolor expanses of the Flaming Lips and the candy punch of Cheap Trick. And it all culminates on “Tonight on the WB,” a metaphysical lament about watching one’s girlfriend act out a breakup on television at the same time she is engaged in a real-life breakup with you. The breakup song form has never been put through a more bizarrely postmodern—yet affecting—prism.

EDITORS’ NOTES

Conceived in the fallout from the breakup of the relationship between Comas leader Andy Herod and Dawson’s Creek star Michelle Williams, Conductor dwells not on the self-pity of lost love, but instead creates its own kind of wounded grandeur through a collage of alt-rock influences. From the caustic rush of “Invisible Drugs” to the power pop of “Employment,” Conductor proves that breakup albums aren’t always about moaning vocals and acoustic guitars (although Herod covers that area with the spare-yet-sweet “Falling”). There are those songs that follow Herod’s distinctive vision of fuzzed-out indie pop —“The Science of Your Mind,” “Moonrainbow” and “The Last Transmission” fall midway between the Technicolor expanses of the Flaming Lips and the candy punch of Cheap Trick. And it all culminates on “Tonight on the WB,” a metaphysical lament about watching one’s girlfriend act out a breakup on television at the same time she is engaged in a real-life breakup with you. The breakup song form has never been put through a more bizarrely postmodern—yet affecting—prism.

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