Just before Skinner’s one-man band took off for the green shores of the UK and India’s intoxicating caste-system, he dropped the |||||| EP — a distorted, electronic three chapter release. Chapter 1: the gripping opening, a careful mix of loud and soft; Chapter 2: the pillow to rest your confused head on; Chapter 3: the violent climax.
Yes, the EP is Fuck Buttons-esque, but that comparison falls apart when Skinner’s deadpan drawl comes funneling in like a post-graduation suicide note. But what’s dead? I reckon it’s free will — delivered a fatal blow by the faceless, will-less, economic recession of 2009. Here Skinner sings for our fate, tied so mercilessly to a system we can’t even understand. In the face of such cruelty, we stand resigned. Lead us, Mr. Skinner.