Deminer incorporate an incredible amount of bits from the ever-changing, but consistently recognizable Chicago sound. They’ve got hummy bits that’d be at home with the Alkaline Trio, a small bead of Pegboy’s sweat streaming down their face, the sonic forearm force of the Arrivals. Even the sweeten, derelict pop of Lynyrd’s Innards. With that said, as a whole, Deminer lacks sinew. So many parts are there, but they seem just a little disjointed and just don’t seem connected for maximum force, like they’re trying too many things at once, instead of stewing in their own musical juices for longer. Five fingers vs. a fist type thing. But, since, they seem Chicago-centric in sound, I’m putting my bids in for more Effigies and more Naked Raygun in the monitors. I won’t count them out in the future, but I wasn’t blown away by this CD.
–todd (Johann’s Face)