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Trespassers W immediately brought to mind Piglet and that little broken sign he had outside of his home. "Trespasser W," as though it could've once warned unwelcome guests about the presence of a 12 gauge shotgun on the premises. So, taking that as a warning about the band itself, I expected the band to be especially dangerous sounding. No need to be heavy or grotesque, but with a topic like sex I'm always happy when someone approaches it with a fresh, typically un-American view (sex and death, sex and power, sex and deity, sensuality and pain). There are no lyrics available anywhere for this album, however, and often the vocalist's voice is hard to decipher behind the rapidly changing instrumentation, so what I do hear from him are words like "pussy" or the mention of objects like "hand cuffs" and "nipple brushes." Whatever the end of sex is, this album doesn't make it easy to find out what the band's opinion on the matter is.
Musically, Trespassers W jump all over the place without much warning and seemingly without reason. The album begins with pseudo-chamber music and a small narrative, but quickly jumps into an American influenced country-rock song. It sounds like a stiff replication rather than the result of an appreciation for the genre and its roots. Later there are light noise pieces assembled from the usual junk drawer of sources, standard pop tunes, and oddball arrangements that don't warrant a comparison to anything else. If all the music on the record were as consistent as those cut up songs and semi-noise pieces then Sex and the End of It would be worth hearing from beginning to end. On an album that is 16 tracks long there is simply too much filler material; well over half of the disc could be done away with and I'm not sure anyone would miss it.
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