Jarring and weird and skittish, like some guy poking you with a barbecue fork and them jumping back when you reach for him. A dozen songs sung in Czech with English translations that remind me of Fourth Rotor and, I don’t know, all the unpleasant aspects of post-rock. How’s that for vague? There are plenty of riffs stacked and piecemealed together and none of them seem to gel into something approaching a song. The tin man without a heart, you know? It’s just pieces. The vocalist approaches Joey Vindictive territory at times, which comes across pretty ineffectively here. Sorry to bag on it, and maybe this will grow on me, but Telefon managed to be musically excessive while gaining very little actual momentum. –keith (PHR, phr.cz)