I don't ask a lot of music, but one of my standing criteria is that I not feel embarrassed about playing it. Translucent made me feel bad for my neighbors, much less myself. Taking ungodly feedback and head-trip lyrics sputtered through cheap filters to a whole new level of impropriety, Halaka hammers out an hour's worth of inscrutable noise passing as rock. No attempts were made to remain in key or carry a tune. Where singing would have sufficed, yelling and howling seemed to be the option of choice. "Comingthroughmydoor" is a paranoia piece that finds the lead singer straddling the line between Soul Coughing's M. Doughty and Seinfeld's Jason Alexander. Halaka spend part of the ten minute-plus runtime of the last track simulating the sound of spanking one another, then laughing uproariously. This must be one of those jokes you had to be there to appreciate. Good thing they go back to yelling soon enough. Faux-hip stylings, such as the album's title, and naming the last two songs on the disc "What You Keep Peeling Off" and "Peeling Off What You Keep" may make the average listener pause, as though there is a wealth of meaning hiding in here somewhere, seeking to be unearthed through repeated listenings. I myself am not about to give in to that line of thinking; my ears hurt after listening to A Translucent Gold Statue, A Hole -- and that alone marks this as one of those rare few discs that will never again see the inside of my CD player.