Review by Dean Carlson

Weather Underground is a mammoth record of wide-screen excess; an album made by a band that -- no matter their actual level of popularity -- wants to sound as anthemic and confident as possible. The trouble's that this confidence smells of desperation rather than self-belief. Andrew Montgomery is as delicate as ever with a falsetto that's both exceptional and tiresome. These new songs are bawdy and vast, sculpted with a brute's sense of beauty, but the frailty of the band's spine reduces such sonic power to rubble. Geneva offers 11 songs that try to convince listeners that they conquered the world when their strength lies in the belief of being a square peg in mainstream's round hole. There is definitely a sense of ignition in every track. A feeling of denial. But a primal scream of wispy proportions is hardly a primal scream to celebrate.