By David Kenney
How refreshing. On Air’s second album in a year, the French band switches modes and opts for a slow-burn sound. The Virgin Suicides avoids Air’s usual lucid synths and drizzling-rain beats, boasting a spooky, frightening score.
A weary-sounding saxophone, Pink Floydish-hallucinogenic guitars, and choral vocals make Virgin Suicides an ear trap; and getting caught is a pleasure.
"The word ‘Hurricane’" is an acid jazz journey wrapped in eerie dialogue comparing sex to the storm. Other tracks reverberate medieval, with emphasis on the evil.
Here the music is so cold, not even a Barney sing-a-long CD could melt it. Coaxing with a gripping and chaotic score, Air takes a break from late night grooves. Replacing them is a batch of eulogies made for score virgins and veterans alike.