At best, Rhody has moments where he sounds like old Kind Of Like Spitting demos. No, like outtakes from old Kind Of Like Spitting Demos. But mostly his stuff consists of static, tape loops, and a kid occasionally warbling off key about love. Little Wings fares marginally better, if only for the fact that there are a couple decipherable songs on their side. High falsettos above keyboards and/or strummed acoustic guitars, interspliced with random conversations and fake commercials about fast food burger joints. Seriously. The LP comes on nice marbled gray wax; so it’s a real shame that it also suffers from one of the heaviest cases of schizophrenia I’ve ever heard on a record. Why do indie rock and quality control mix like oil and water? Why can’t they just get along?

 –keith (Friends and Relatives)