BROKEN SPINDLES - Inside / Absent

Joel Petersen's solo career began when, as a bassist either weary or not fully satisfied with the musical direction of his main band (originally conceived under the name Norman Boiler, in collaboration with a certain Conor Orbest, then shifted toward synth-wave as Faint with the arrival — replacing Mr. Bright Eyes — of Matt Bowen), he sought an outlet for his most deeply felt musical passions. So, under the moniker Broken Spindles, he released a first, self-titled LP (Saddle Creek, 2002), entirely instrumental, with a raw digital charm. Having also started the Beep Beep project, again as bassist, he then put out his second LP ("Fulfilled: Complete"; Saddle Creek, 2004), on which he sings and arranges the material in a more professional manner (producer Mike Mogis's contribution is more noticeable this time), though a real personality still struggles to emerge.

Perhaps also in an attempt to remedy that lingering, far from negligible creative shortcoming, Petersen wrote the follow-up on his laptop in a hurry (even during breaks on the Faint and Beep Beep tours, and sometimes even during their respective soundchecks). The result is the perfect younger sibling of its predecessor. There is, perhaps, a greater self-awareness, as shown by the wordplay of "This Is An Introduction" (guitar and digital beat textures, counterpoints, sonic backdrops), or a more pronounced synth-new-romantic sensibility (the airless Japan of "Birthday", or the filtered, robotic drone of "The Distance Is Nearsighted", or again the washed-out, simplistic electroclash of "Please Don't Remember This", with effeminate Bolan-esque sighs), but the whole thing is simply too rough around the edges to be convincing. The lack of meaningful help is plain to hear.

In addition to this intimate sophistication carried over from the songs of the previous album, the author also revisits its piano interludes, centered on Debussy-esque registers of decadence. On "Fulfilled" those instrumental pieces made no claim to the status of Mussorgsky's "Promenade", nor to that of the noise-laden interstitial pieces on the Red Crayola's masterpiece (the now-notorious "Free-Form Freak Out"), but they nonetheless provided an estranging originality capable of balancing the record as a whole. On this album they seem to become pure monotony born of a lack of ideas. "Valentine" is the only piece of the bunch to rise even slightly above the rest, thanks above all to Petersen's Sutton-esque vocals and the ambient loops that discreetly wrap around this little flight of fancy. Above all, Petersen shows that his contemporary Flim is a different beast entirely. Having thus increased (if only slightly) the long-sought singer-songwriter personality, Petersen neglects everything else. "Inside/Absent", the title, fits the actual content in an unintentional (and unsettling) way: at times it is inside, grappling with stereotypes that risk becoming ridiculous, but far more often it is the absence that prevails. Of interpretation, of resolve, of duration. Its mere 26 minutes, in an age of artistic and discographic incontinence, manage to feel like a fault. That was no easy feat.

Ride the wave of great music

Add OndaRock to your favorite sources on Google Discover. Don't miss our reviews, milestones and latest news straight in your feed.

Follow on Google

30/04/2026