The group still works up open-ended, exploratory jams whose contours gradually coalesce out of a haze of thick, distorted tones generated by bassist Clint Takeda and brother guitarists John and Michael Gibbons.

[...] But now these ethereal elements are tethered by riffs that recall the sludgy downer rock of early Dinosaur Jr and "Iron Man"-era Black Sabbath; and where drummer Joe Culver used to sound like he was lost in the morass, his pummeling, cymbal-heavy attack now pushes the rest of the band through it.

"[7] A mixed review came from Angela Lewis of the British newspaper The Independent, who wrote: "Bardo Pond are not exactly the artistes to spin when granny visits, being wilder than a herd of Nirvana wannabes on the rampage, but a strong sense of purpose underlies the broody noise-scapes of this 5-piece from Philadelphia.

"[4] Similarly mixed, Christopher Hess - reviewing the album for The Austin Chronicle in the lead up to the band's performance at SXSW - noted that "Bardo Pond's brand of drug-rock, thick as a hot kettle full of snot, is more explorative than experimental.

There aren't any shocking changes or mechanical innovations here, just a mesmerizingly lolling sea of dissonant sounds, trudging along around mid-tempo to a final exhausted end, [...] This is not rock of violent addiction or somber coming-down, it evokes more a constant state of mind: a perpetual buzz that makes everything just a bit fuzzy around the edges.