There is a heaviness throughout the twelve songs on Teri Falini's second album, The Room. Filled with disturbed characters who suffer from various forms of paralysis, crippling anguish, and other psychological distress, the album is never quite sure whether it wants to be a maudlin character study or a poppy rock record. The San Franciscan quartet is perhaps overly ambitious in the themes they address, and occasionally they are guilty of trying to distract with dense, layered instrumentation when their lyrics are slight; but they do get credit for making a credible attempt of it. The disc opens with the vaguely menacing electric guitar notes of "Tangerine (drug)," with violin strings that lazily drift along the air, book ended by some fluttering sitar sounds. The song recalls the lethargic fogginess of George Harrison's "Blue Jay Way." Elsewhere on the disc, the bright garage rock of "Undressed" features Falini singing "I own it all, my my lies/ scarred face I have no disguise/ of what I am and how I have tried/ to repair the harm inside." This leads the way to the disc's centerpiece, "My Father," a droning, hypnotic dirge about a family member who is institutionalized; "My my father/ Won't close his eyes/His lives underneath/ Bright red sky/ She pleads come with me/ Leave your mind/ I follow him into his eyes…." sings Falini, dragging out the last word as she fades into the swelling music. The disc never lives up to its own ambitions, getting lost on meandering, murky tracks, but there are some interesting bits sprinkled throughout.
-Neal Alpert
Release date: January 9, 2007
