The 60-watt soft glow of Wheat's second full- length gently pushes you in the back with two palms. But this is an encouraging push-- not an annoying push-- into fields of amber organs, where crystalline spires of guitar rise into a sky of matte, reachable teal. Atmosphere is pumped courtesy of Mercury Rev's Dave Fridmann, who appears to be taking it upon himself to produce every band that makes writers spit "fields," "crystalline," "glow," and "...like the Flaming Lips." Wheat and Adams oozes subtle, if not innocuous, indie rock tricks, blended into a homogenous, hotdog/tofu- like (depending on your eating dietary philosophy consistency. While restraint and understatement create a dreamy weave, the unwavering mood and pace offer few disappointments-- and few standout moments. If anything, Wheat takes consistency almost to a fault.
Hope and Adams hovers in the air like a hypnotic zeppelin, but you can follow the tethering cables down to the ground where the Flaming Lips, Pavement, Wilco, and the American Analog Set lazily hold on, uninterested, sitting in lawn chairs and smoking cigarettes. At high volumes, the trembling synths and bass pleasantly rattle your teeth like chewing on aluminum foil. Even if the songs all follow the pattern of "tightly waft along at a medium pace until sax/ droning guitar/ piano/ strings drop the improvised hook," Wheat's suddenly pleasantly in front of the pack thanks to large, lily- white sails. "More Than You'll Ever Know" is the most lovely piece of distortion you're likely to hear, but it leads into the unfortunate "Roll the Road," which sounds precisely like the Flaming Lips doing a new age version of Tom Petty's "Free Fallin'." Bands like Wheat never become one's favorite band, but they'll remind you of all groups to whom you do pray.
