Sneaky Thieves - accident(s)

Like The Dead Science, another post-Radiohead band from Seattle, Sneaky Thieves manage to lace their minimalist compositions with a maximum of sonic invention. The mood parameters of accident(s) are so strict that the listener has little choice but to dig in with singer Freddy Bale and his friends as they carve out their little trenches of despair. The arrangements are airy but never thin, with all manner of odd instrumentation supporting the frail escalation of Bale’s vocals. There is something vaguely psychedelic about Sneaky Thieves. Coming from a different part of Rain City than the gruff alleyways of Screaming Trees, they seem to have sprouted from a field of magic mushrooms. The lyrics cling to the repetition of obscurely meaningful images with the music crawling around them like ivy on a wall. The band has an original sound that might be described as chamber pop. It is pretty, but withdrawn. Adventurous, but familiar. And when the mournfulness of it all threatens to become a bit oppressive, a lovely harmonic touch adds just enough of a breeze to fill the sail and lighten, as Bale puts it “the weight of the sin that is pressing through my bones.” [www.myspace.com]