Resistor :: "Lighting And Distance"

In the spirit of Dntel's blip-pop, Philadelphia's Resistor builds arrangements bordering on 8-bit cacophony, like a keyboard graveyard where at night the electronic carcasses come to life to haunt one another. "Lighting and Distance" pokes and prods itself toward a crystalline chorus of, "so tell me lies, little lies", a satisfying and hook-driven slice of treble before breaking down into a baroque chord resolution ("and the sun will always rise") like Louis XIV furiously writing revenue policy on a Casio. If it is instantly digestible and a healthy share anachronistic, it is rich for its knowingly blind optimism: satisfying, mercurial and more than a bit wry.