reax music magazine :: music + culture » Reviews » Adam Green - Sixes and Sevens

Adam Green's umpteenth solo album of meandering anti-folk is perfectly timed to cash in on his duo Moldy Peaches' Juno associations. Which means there are gonna be a lot of copies of Sixes & Sevens in the bins of whatever used CD stores still remain in business a couple of months from now, because not too many 20-year-old mainstream music fans are gonna make it through 20 tracks of his strummy, self-satisfied hipster-centric poesy. Swinging from cheesy faux disco-soul (“Twee Twee Dee”) to doo-wop (“Broadcast Beach”) and back to acoustic guitar-driven journal jottings, Sixes & Sevens is a bit more musically ambitious than some of Green's earlier work, and occasionally, when the lyrics quit trying too hard not to care, it can be a momentarily engaging listen. But it still relies on the songwriter's irritating, ain't-I-clever brand of (supposed) art masquerading as (apparently) tossed-off meaninglessness, and that shit gets old quick. – Scott Harrell