Spin - 8 out of 10 - "...his command of sonic architecture is more precise and delicate than ever....Papa M finds emlightenment in hypnosis and peace in subtle repetition, successfully panning for gold in them sine-wave hills."
Alternative Press - 3 out of 5 - "...succeeds here because his playing sounds better when unaccompanied by electronic flourishes and 'post-rock' mumbo jumbo..."
Muzik - 3 stars out of 5 - "...Wreaking aural violence with nothing more than a few...casually strummed guitar riffs and some mournful melodies...luring the listner into a smothering world of plangent melancholy and haunting structures, with a delicate touch..."
CMJ - "...Papa M turns circular, melodically melancholic, acoustic and electric guitar riffs and arpeggios into a series of vast and contemplative...technical mantras....dazzling..."
The Wire - "...modern instrumental folk-rock...firmly guitar-based, involving minimalist repetitive patterns of a subtle, mesmerizing quality....Papa M slips into a range of different genres without being constrained by any of them."
Mojo - "...blends simple folk and blues figures with electronica into a relaxed, hypnotic whole more akin...to a flotation tank than a shark cage."
NME - 8 out of 10 - "...Pajo's genetic fingerprints...cover this record, synthesizing forebears and descendants into timeless beauty. LIVE FROM A SHARK CAGE runs as deep as it runs free."
Q - 3 stars out of 5 - "...Dave Pajo is the most self-effacing and possibly the most talented...of all the Chicago avant-rock fraternity....antique drum machines and ethereal electronica creates a richly textured sound....quiet, considered and occasionally beautiful..."
Magnet - "...acoustic and electronic instrumentals [that] sound terrific...when melded together seamlessly....a mature instrumental work....proving he has a gaze beyond the horizon..."
Rovi
If you listen to some of the records David Pajo (aka Papa M) has appeared on, you might mistake Live From a Shark's Cage for someone else. After Slint, Tortoise, and a stint with Royal Trux, one might consider Pajo a guitar player known for his sharp, fuzzy, abrasive tone. This assumption would quickly be proven wrong. Live From a Sharks Cage is for the most part a subtle, slowly constructed work that comes to fruition in the same way hypnotist subdues a patient with the swinging of a clock. The album is book ended by the song "Arundel." Its first incarnation is a one-minute tease -- a solo guitar piece that evokes country and folk with an distorted echo guitar. "Arundel" melts into "Roadrunner," where programmed drums undercut a clear guitar riff. The moods of "Shark's Cage" switch often, but with such great care that the transitions between songs are nearly seamless. This album sounds much like a live performance (as its title precariously suggests) that leaves the listener feeling an exploration of emotions; a succession of sounds has come full circle. There are the quiet moments of "Pink Holler" and "Plastic Energy Man" where a lullaby guitar plays gently over electronic rhythms. There is the distorted 4/4 stomp of "Drunken Spree," and the eerie, queer sounding "Crowd of One," where a series of answering machine messages playing over an ambient guitar. The spookiness of "Crowd" heightened by the knowledge that these messages were those left on Pajo's recently deceased grandfathers' machine. "Knocking the Casket" is kind of a bluegrass dirge that further emphasizes the somewhat ominous tone of the album. The backwoods rock of "Up North Kids," the penultimate track, is perhaps the wake after "Casket" with its upbeat, day-at-a-Kentucky-barbeque feel. Finally we return to a longer, haunting version of "Arundel" to close the album that lasts about four minutes, although it could easily go on for another 10 and still be engaging. Live From a Sharks Cage is a musical novel -- its separate parts, the connections between them, and their sum flow perfectly. Shark's Cage shows why David Pajo has been a part of so many influential bands and has continued to be equally as revolutionary in his solo career. ~ Marc Gilman|
Rovi