In the call for something greater, a sweet, harsh, inexplicable sound drifts out over the Atlantic toward the hungry hearts whose number are legion. The land of commodity gives us, of course, Producto, the Athens, Georgia-based band. Now comes Producto 3. The third album, the bass, drums, the guitar all in one package, seamlessly twisted around and through sweaty, streaming lines of handsome heartbreak, a'... follow my tears to the river you drink...' The vocals approach on a vast stairway rung with power chords instead of handrails - ferociously tearing at the last vestiges of Pop. This femme fatale with the silky contempt trades on her fever like it's the only gift she has to give you. The ten new songs could only be the newest evidence for that creep who will not die, that Deusex Machina of creation cannibalizing commerce with the newest Producto.
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