This isn’t quite your weird uncle’s Wolf Eyes, capable of clearing a den and ending the party in 30 seconds flat — but it’s a Wolf Eyes that’s still capable of scaring off half the guests. The other half will find a lot to love here.
Somber and hopeful, bleak and bountiful, it’s an appropriately uneasy document of all the terrible and breathtaking possibilities of a not-so-distant techno-future.
Blare Falls in the prescribed order, on shuffle, in a plane, on a train: You’ll dance, you’ll cringe, your Mom will freak out, your homies may start rumors about you — which is as it should be.