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Once a bastion of camaraderie and artistic good will, the MENDOZA LINE is now an enterprise entirely shot through with and utterly hollowed out by hatred. Specifically, the women hate the men and the men hate themselves. The many excellent reasons for this development are meticulously and tunefully documented on the new LP "WERE ALL IN THIS ALONE", an album which closely explores the genders' differing outlooks on sex and fidelity, while attempting to ascertain precisely the reason why all romantic relationships must ultimately culminate in a relentless spiral of anguish and misery. Drawing from older influences Elvis Costello, Richard and Linda Thompson, and the McGarrigle sisters as well as an abiding fondness for contemporary acts like Neutral Milk Hotel and Quasi, the guys and girls of the MENDOZA LINE trade off songs, hurling insults and leveling lurid accusations all the way. The effect is that of a blistering, alternately funny and sad forty-two minute argument, suggesting indie-rock's very own answer to "Whose Afraid of Virginia Woolf". Which faction of the MENDOZA LINE ultimately prevails is a matter for each individual listener to decide, but there is one matter agreed upon by both sides, and hence bears no dispute: we're all in this alone. 
IT HAD TO BEGIN SOMEWHERE...
And so, amidst a general impression that there ought to be more bands that sound like American Music Club, the seven guys and girls comprising the MENDOZA LINE convened in Athens, Ga (where some of them actually attended college, while others merely attended Happy Hour) during the scorching summer of 1995. Bolstered by a shared noncomprehension of their massive local unpopularity, the MENDOZA LINE simply could not be dissuaded from releasing two full length albums and an EP, all on the Kindercore label. Last year's LP release "I Like You When You're Not Around" garnered a number of embarrassingly good reviews, climbed to #28 on the CMJ charts, and eventually sold what everyone involved judged to be a highly surprising number of copies. Baffled but cheerful, the MENDOZA LINE then relocated to NYC (where certain more "intellectually inclined" elements of the band currently pursue graduate work in painting and drawing), signed on to Bar-None Records and prepared to conquer the world, or be conquered, or both. Ranging in age from twenty three to twenty six years old, the MENDOZA LINE still strongly prefers to think of themselves as a "young" band, although in reality all of this is becoming gradually more impossible to justify to their parents.
MORE HISTORICAL OVERVIEW
First convened around the early months of 1995, the Mendoza Line, during a four year residency in Athens, Ga, failed to befriend a single member of the world renowned Elephant Six Recording Collective. It was not for lack of trying: on at least one occasion the group attempted telephoning Kevin Barnes from Of Montreal in the hopes of having him "harmonize" on a track only to be informed that he would be busy consuming meals indefinitely. Shortly thereafter, efforts by Paul to grow a beard resembling that of Scott Spillane from The Gerbils resulted in a discomforting swelling of the chin, and later, a brief hospitalization. Utilizing only the most conventional of instrumentation and recording techniques, the Mendoza Line's utterly familiar brand of sub-industry folk-rock is far more reminiscent of contemporary Christian radio, than say The Music Tapes or Elf Power. Complimented once at a cafe on her jogging acumen by an amiable Jeff Mangum, Shannon became disoriented and was able to respond only with a slur of insults and ambiguous hand gestures. The fruits of this collaboration are evident throughout "We're All In This Alone", already described by some in the know as "the least psychedelic record of the last twenty years, and quite possibly the least interesting."
Other Notes -It is perhaps worth noting that the "Powers That Be" at Bar-None Records, desiring to sell at least a small handful of records, pleaded with the Mendoza Line to allow "We're All In This Alone" with "Baby, I Know What You're Thinking", the track judged by all parties involved to be the least likely to cause the listener to eject "We're All In This Alone" from their CD player within twenty seconds, and proceed directly to their local record store to trade it in for a third copy of "The Albemarle Sound". The Mendoza Line, careening as ever between episodes of craven self-promotion and a relentless determination to fail, when confronted with this request, promptly opted to instead begin the record with ten minutes of meandering gibberish. Therefore they are deserving of and accept all the blame for everything.-The Mendoza Line are hoping like hell (praying!) to have a runaway, cross-over industry radio sensation of a fluke rock and roll hit with track #4 "Baby, I Know What You're Thinking", or any of the other ones for that matter. This is the only way they can think to pay off the stunning debts accrued by Lori, who seemed to be making sense at the time when she persuaded the rest of the bands members to sell their gear to pay for her fascination with 1-900 telephone betting services. "Baby, I Know What You're Thinking" comes to mind since it qualifies as another in a storied tradition of fine rock and roll singles like "I Should Have Known Better" and "The One I Love", which on first blush appear to express simple emotions of an affectionate nature, but upon closer inspection reveal themselves to contain truly vile and belligerent sentiments. Pete Hoffman is a monster.
-For the most part, recording for "We're All In This Alone" proceeded smoothly and as planned, except for one unnerving incident where-in Peter inadvertently swallowed some of the marbles he and Timothy keep in their mouths while singing, in order to achieve their patented "unintelligible mumbling" vocal style. Refusing traditional medical attention (Peter has long kept a phobic distance from doctors, insisting that they uniformly consist of class consious snobs "like Charles from M*A*S*H"), he opted instead for a steady course of Paul's patented "cure-all" home remedy of Listerine and crutons slathered in apple butter. The results were mixed, and after a few weeks Peter asked if he might be driven to a pasture in the countryside to die. Luckily, no one in the Mendoza Line is in possesion of a valid driver's license, and coincident with the cessation of Paul's "care", Petr's condition gradually began to improve. Now let us never speak of this incident again.
