testface, doctor won't you get us to dawn
review by alex lifeson

Meandering through the melancholic and temporarily touching the ecstatic,
Testface’s first release, doctor won’t you get us to dawn, is like a
shadowy collection of overheard conversations. From the gritty whispers of
All the Glass Players to the hollow voice of Hold on Merry Go Round,
Snider’s stream of consciousness stories blend with his biographical
confessions to create a coherent collage of uncomfortable depth.
Accompanied by a haunting sonic scape that is filled with subtle chimes,
lulling bass, lingering xylophone, and the distant delay of reverb soaked
guitar, Snider’s secretive stories become part of a hypnotic musical moment
that comes into focus just as it begins to fade away.

Although each song highlights its own passing, all are tied together with
short segments of samples that establish poignant pauses without disturbing
the overall mood and continuity of the record. From bird songs and muted
laughter, to random computer blips and warbled choir choruses, the samples
enunciate the particular character of each song, while washing it with a
certain stain. Like a musical topcoat, the samples add a disturbingly dark
luster that exposes the rich grainy detail of Snider’s fractured dream prose.
All and all the record listens like a diary of different personalities in
the process of becoming. Weaving in between subdued half starts and
tear-full completions, doctor won’t you get us to dawn is a passionately
composed cycle, constantly evolving with each subsequent rotation.