I was a little nervous to listen to "The Zerosum," having committed the sin of reading the liner notes first. I was expecting anger and angst and vague symbolism. I was expecting "dark," with an emphasis on the quotes. "Short Satanic Mass" held up to my expectations with it's collage of screams and plucked strings. But after the grating first line of "Samsara," Inge seems to let the black curtain rise and he finds his own voice. 


As discordant as he would like to think he is, Inge writes some good pop music. I don't mean this as a glib clumping together with radio fodder. I mean to say that he writes songs that catch in your head, songs you can enjoy listening to. After hearing "Walk You Down," even my 2-year-old said " I like that song." 


That being said, "The Zerosum" is more than a collection of pop songs. Inge questions the self, ending up with no answers, at zero. The title implies that nothing is gained. I'm not sure that is the point of music, of literature, of art in general. Zerosum spirals outward from the self, through love, family, faith and community, ending up looking for the joke somewhere in the ether.


And it is a showy spiral. Inge sounds like Lou Reed channeling Leonard Cohen, with a bit of Robyn Hitchcock thrown in for good measure. Like all three he falls victim to a bit of self-indulgence. The most egregious example is "New Fuckosphere." What can I say about fuck, repeated over and over again? This hasn't held meaning since sixth grade. 


"The Zerosum" is otherwise a very thoughtful album lyrically. There is a turn of phrase, a subtle twist that keeps the listener involved. There is simple beauty in the lines "The only good winter day / is the day when the snow melts away / and you see it go...". "Father Want Me Come Home" addresses the want to be seen as an adult by a parent without leaning on cliche. It's ending echoes a parent's repetitive plea. 


"Goodbye America" is a clever sort of break-up song, a political anthem. Its Lady Liberty metaphor works so well until the last verse, where it gets a little confused. The song has something to say and I'm afraid it loses some of its credibility by taking the metaphor too far. 


Inge promises in the liner notes that this album is "dark, un-catchy and poorly executed." He is wrong on all three. It is a thoughtful, well-crafted commentary on the human condition in a post modern world. Since there is no faith to be found in anything else, maybe he should find it in himself. 


Amanda Cook
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