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Morphine: Like Swimming

Ira Robbins, Rolling Stone, 17 April 1997

TEMPTING FATE with a great gimmick, Morphine barreled into the fast lane five years ago, driving a chesty blare of two-string slide bass, baritone sax and drums into the murky twilight of rock noir. Fueled by taut, inveigling songs of sex and paranoia, the Boston trio's glowering cool was (and is) as unmistakable as Bogey and as persuasive as the bouncer in a strip joint.

Total word count of piece: 324

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