It’s an absorbing album that actually seems a lot shorter than its 47 minutes, which in my book is quite the compliment. Long may they mush.
Ultimately, it’s the music and the general vibe of taut chaos that helps Lines Redacted succeed. It’s more memorable than Mush’s debut, simultaneously weirder and more melodic.
Lines Redacted, in some sense, finds Mush at their most varied yet, offsetting the drawbacks of its extended length with a newfound openness and volatility.
Whether it’s by cutting lyricism or guitar accompaniment that wanders and wanes as erratically as the headlines, there’s an undeniable feeling of currency that makes ‘Lines Redacted’ feel as though it belongs precisely in the here and now.
Often lifted by angular, bug-eyed guitars, Mush can’t help but approach matters with considerable levity.
At times sounding like an inebriated Bryan Ferry fronting Pavement in tribute to Andy Gill, the trio have hit on an identity that is equally complexing and engaging on this, their second album.
Rallying against aggravating, absurd political realities with passion and humor, the Leeds post-punks offer a tongue-in-cheek counterpoint to dourer contemporaries.
In the face of personal and public devastations, the friends have avoided inertia and constructed a garish and cathartically atonal album that unbelievably manages to avoid catastrophe.
While the individual songs may not be as fun on average as those of its predecessor, Lines Redacted does drive home the feeling of dissatisfaction while, like a Ramones under the influence, locking into an admirably irreverent, distinctive persona.