This, my friends, is the beautiful America.
It makes me feel small and insignificant.
this whole production thing is just a big load of bollocks to be honest.
If I remember correctly, “the GD sound” was all about slightly muffled vocals doing battle with raucous organs and guitars, all the while propelled by some unrelenting drumming.
As with all these records there's a hint of the school music room about them; it's as if everything has to be played at some point (especially piano, as on Swimming). And the accent is always on “taking each song as it comes”.
You might think that these two “wacky dudes” (that's how the majority of population sees them) are on some crazy drugs.
“Hey Mr Heartbreak you're back.”
what the hell possessed him to go near Billie Jean I'll never know?
Today is also a Saturday afternoon, not a Tuesday night. One more thing: today is an all ages show. I must admit, I wasn't going to go. The idea of being at a gig with a bunch of pre-teens didn't appeal much as it'd be far too easy to look like a dirty old man.
I kind of need to know who I am sometimes and I'm just sort of discovering that really.
Lyrics on the wistful Run Home contain the following holler “SHE'S NOT THE KIND OF GIRL WHO'LL TAKE YOU AWAY FROM YER GUITAR” (their capitals, not mine, gentle reader)
They are all the same pace, last the same amount of time and chug along in much the same fashion. And every time Prekop's vocals kick in the heart sinks a little.
this year's CocoRosie
You're off your face and lost in the beat, but it's all so repetitive that you barely notice that music is playing anymore. Sweat's pouring off your brow and the girl you were talking to has mysteriously disappeared “to the loo” for the past hour and a half after you tried to stick your tongue down her throat.
I first heard this LP when the missus stuck it on downstairs whilst I tossed and turned; held in the throes of an appalling hangover. Apparently, the missus liked the cover art, which is a fetching drawing of a buffalo.
As you'd expect with the guitarist of a band that covered Barrett's Dominos, there's a distinct late 60s feel to the tracks on here
Grant is seemingly very fond of uplifting chord progressions; it seems to be a trick she's invested heavily in and this may well be the key to this LP's charm…
The thing is it's bloody catchy in the way that Christina Aguliera is catchy; it should annoy you to blazes, but the song's hooks don't grab you as much as get you by the throat and then jump all over your quivering, gelatinous form.
There's no filler or slightly less moments. If anything I think that Funf is going to find itself played more than their last LPs have been chez nous.
As is the case with so much music of this ilk, you get wistful and dreamy songs lost in a haze of feedback and tinkling melodies (Thursday), or you get affirmative romps (New Years, Red Sea).