What is it about the Pacific Northwest air that spawns all these spaced out, alienated bands whose visions are as dark as decay and inviting as sin? Built to Spill, Modest Mouse, 764-HERO, and Caustic Resin, all have the same lost, wandering feel -- dark, isolated, awake, afraid and alone, and ultimately, familiar. In Resin's case, the aural musical trance runs further into the realm of fear than the regret.

Trick Question splits in two like a fine vinyl album. Side one, the first five songs, is an exorcism dominated by thick, sludgy slabs of sloppy, angry angst. "Taste" plods forward like a drunken linebacker looking for a toilet to throw up in. "Eventhings" feels evil from the get-go, 'til it turns into a Neil Young-style guitar romp. In fact, those who know nothing about this region's unique musical stylings might compare side one's throbbing ballet to a dreadful cross between The Final Cut-era Pink Floyd and Rust Never Sleeps-era Young. Slow, desperate, and at times, hard to withstand, like the nearly 6-minute-long rumination called "California," which feels like a very bad hangover or a blood-red headache. CD opener, "Unlucky" has the same gloomy goth shadowing as the darker, grimmer stuff off early Cure albums (see "The Snake Pit" and "The Kiss" off Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me).