On its sixth full-length, the college-rock version of Steely Dan otherwise known as Karate returns to the jazz-soaked structures that have carved them their own niche in indiedom. The trio has always been known for its meticulously crafted jazz-rock fusions, and on Pockets they don't stray far from the formula. And this is precisely what makes this new record so boring. Their signature modest, low-key approach, which once seemed so refreshing, no longer engages listeners or offers anything other than musicianship. Sadly, Pockets' breezy songs pass by so insipidly that it's difficult to come away humming any melody or phrase each song blends into the next, and what's left is an album that fades from memory as soon as the last song is over.
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