Amoeba Music

Brian McMahan’s genius moment in developing the For Carnation’s sound lies in one aspect of his former band, Slint. The For Carnation’s eerie, hushed mystery draws from Slint’s quieter moments, the lulls in between that band’s famous math-roar. Essentially McMahan’s solo project, augmented by a deep and ever changing lineup of Louisville and Chicago’s finest creative musicians, the For Carnation’s releases have been sporadic. 2000’s The For Carnation, released four years after the band’s debut full-length Marshmallows, is arguably its most concise effort. If Marshmallows is more obviously fractured and cerebral, comparable to David Grubbs’ Gastr del Sol, The For Carnation has straight songcraft closer to its heart. That’s not to say the atmosphere isn’t still filled with claustrophobic creepiness. McMahan’s slow, cinematic vision revolves around quiet dread and naked paranoia. That said, The For Carnation is as beautiful and lovely as it is weird, making for an emotionally engaging listen.