Reviews by deksametazon

Tubular Bells. Made by a 19-year-old. Actually, almost entirely made by a 19-year-old. Let that sink in for a bit.

I always had a hard time writing a review for this album. In a way, if there should be one album that should be synonymous with progressive rock, it's probably Tubular Bells. It's a suite made of a myriad of different little ideas that jump between each other to create a cohesive unit of self-indulgent properties (another characteristic of prog).

A tale of two sides. Side A is the overindulgent one with the elitist rock approach, manhandling all the instruments and switching scenes like they're nothing, and it's here where the tone is set. Either you'll love it or hate it, nothing in between.

Side B starts off with a mellower, slower approach with almost ambient quality, that shift towards a more schizophrenic groove with an avant sensibility but quickly makes it back to familiar turf once again.

Tubular Bells is an experience I like to relive every once in a while, and while it has maybe aged a bit badly in the discourse regarding progressive rock's place in the musical sphere, I find it enjoyable and a great starting point in an epoch of music where excess was the norm, it was just a matter of finding the right amount.

It's like, but you're in the backwoods of Scotland.

Some old geezer once told me that listening to Mike Oldfield while studying will help you focus more. Sorry geezer, but with every bing and bong I get transported back to my grandparents' countryside home with the meadows eerily similar to the one on the cover (minus the wacky photo manipulation, although that could be arranged with some of that you know what) and I get all emotional and, fuck me, I can't study when my mind wanders into nostalgia where I drank tea made from freshly picked herbs around the house in the morning listening to farm animals while the misty sun caressed my young, untainted face.

The music is neat tho. Very impressive for anyone, let alone a 21-year-old (a year younger than me, what the fuck!).

Now this is how you do quirky. Danny was always a favorite of mine due to the sheer fun-ness of the music he does. But still, outside some key moments, it's too much of a product of its time. Danny's vocal playfulness is a nuisance for some, but I find it flavorful.

Even in light of recent events, Little Girls is still a fun satirical take, You Really Got Me shows how much of of soundtrack savant Danny can be, turning a punk tune into almost a theater play song, and how can I forget Only a Lad, probably the best song here. Sadly, the rest isn't up to the task of matching the manic energy of the aforementioned songs, but are still likable enough.

Desolate, sparse, sad. I feel like this is what prison would sound like somewhere hundreds and hundreds of miles away from civilization somewhere up in the mountains of Asia. Vlad plays a mean accordion here, and his throat singing is no joke, at least that's how my brain interprets it. Even if Mongolian throat singing is a widespread meme at this point, listening to this, you will think of everything but memes. It's beautiful and full of emotions, even if you can't fully grasp the genre.

Really nice folk album from Scandinavia. I like its mysteriousness: you don’t know what you’re in for until well past the initial stages. The musicianship is great, and the whole band plays off of each other very well, mixing folk from different regions with different shades of jazz well enough to actually be of recommendable quality.

The cold aura it emits is unwelcoming at first, but make no mistake: the insides are as intimate and melting as they come. They play like a tavern band made of King Crimson musicians.

The dual combination of Arsen Dedić in the role of lyricist, and Gabi Novak as vocal leader, together with the input of the group of musicians they belong to, among others, Kemal Monteno and Nikica Kalogjera, resulted in an album that could realistically be said to be one of the highlights of female vocal pop in the 70s and early 80s.

An atmospheric album on which the influence of her future husband can be felt, in the vocal performance, Gabi Novak shines here making an album that should be one of the reasons why she deserves to be among the top women of the Yugoslav pop scene.

Good bop, but it's hard for me to find anything of staying power. This one is good background music for a blurry night where you don't have anything to do.

It has a simple formula that it follows: cool RnB vocals above a simple beat that's both sparse and lush in its construction.

This and are the two main reasons why, for me at least, East Coast hip hop outshines the West Coast contemporaries.

Biggie had immense talent on the microphone, with an atmosphere that's unrivaled. His lyrics are urban poetry, with rhymes intertwining to create a picturesque scenery, especially on the songs that detail the intercity struggle.

Even if I never did like him, P did a good job on the production end. Even though there are a few questionable choices, most notably the interludes, which didn't age well, and the Diddy features, which feel like him strong-arming and forcing himself onto it (something not unknown to him), the production is on par with the lyrical and MC qualities this album is an abundance of.

Ever since I first heard it a couple of weeks ago, I've liked it a lot. The whole project can be divided into two distinct apporoaches. The first being an art-pop one, which is for me the better executed idea, and the instrumental parts which are more of a show for composer, conductor, and songwriter, Craig Fortnam. They almost sound like a movie soundtrack, or pieces from a theather play.

The folky/poppy songs do a good job creating a soothing and delicate atmosphere for those intimate evenings with a chamber-esque orchestral feeling and some really beautiful singing, while the instrumentals carry the feeling created into more unknown territory in which we, as the listeners, tango together between ourselves. In a way, they are heavily dependent on each other, as two souls deeply in love with each other.

In short: a good album which I recommend wholeheartedly. Seriously interesting stuff, and I'm for sure going to check out the rest of their stuff.

Björk meets Julee Cruise and David Sylvian. Weirdly, more upbeat than Dynamite. It has an electro lounge feel to it with some smooth jazz moments sprinkled in. Very minimalist and mysterious throughout, but I don't find anything to grab onto. If I had a cafe, I'd play this occasionally.

The landscape of hip-hop is filled to the brim with jazz and soul-infused hip-hop with lyrics about the political landscape, the preaching of black empowerment, and that shindig. This Noname album is no different, meaning it's just another product on the loooong treadmill of different derivatives.

But not all is mild, the features on this album stand out, with verses from Jay (yes, I said it), $ilkMoney, Billy Woods, and Common being the parts I enjoyed most. The problem with that is, this is a Noname album, so you expect her to shine the brightest, but instead, she mostly relegates herself to being a sermon conductor of themes that are getting stale by this point.

But, y'know, props to her for putting this Jay verse on this album I guess, but a big minus for shitting the bed when it mattered most.

I can her a lot of influences. Rob's vocals sometime remind me of Danzig, and even... Tim Curry. And the precise, yet janky, sound reminds me of those artsy post-punk bands like Gang of Four and Wire. And at moments you can also hear where Fugazi got their sound from.

What instantly graces your eardrums in this album is the tone that shifts between being funky and being a rabid dog, if you catch what I mean. And it all has to do with that filthy bassline, which caries the album immensely on many tracks. The guitar and drums are no slouches either, and compliment the cacophonous atmosphere. What's even better is how all the songs have a distinct sound, yet they all fit together well in an album setting.

It's chaotic, and you never quite know what to expect once you first tune into it. The Tower rolls like a groove metal tune, and The End of All Things is like an ascending gospel tune for the nigh end times. Truly a trip with many highs.

While it's not the greatest rap album I've heard, it's still pretty good. The only downside is that it gets more and more mid as the album progresses. The first few songs, particularly 1 and 2, are really good, but we see a dip in quality as we get to side B, which culminates in B3, Fugitives, which is too fucking long (9 minutes, really?), making it, by the time it ends, the most forgettable track on here.

The production is really good. It has to be said, even though it was said a thousand times, that the lo-fi vibe of the Memphis rap subgenre gives the music the edge and really gives you a glimpse into what kind of surrounding these guys were living, hustling, and thriving musically. Rapping isn't on any new level. Mostly quick rhyme schemes with horror elements, crime, and death references.

It may be stupid to say, but the album feels really intimate. Listening gives you the feeling that this cassette was recorded out of pure love and given to you by a friend whose basement was used as the studio (which is probably true to someone), rather than listening to it on streaming services thousand of miles away from Memphis, which I am doing now.

Overall, even with its flaws, it's still a really good album and an adequate introduction album to the grit of Memphis rap. Give it a shot.

Nirvana, and by extension Nevermind, was the last cultural musical phenomenon that graced this Earth (unless someone nukes the entire internet grid and we go back to TV and radio). Younger generations will never know the meteoric scale this album shook the world, even 10 years after its release when it was still the talk of the town, and TV channels still rolled Smells Like Teen Spirit or In Bloom.

The entire album can be categorized as a mainstream side A, which was pop rock and power pop infused with poppy punk rock, and a more "gratata" side B with energetic and "less" commercial moves. It's Dave Grohl who gels togeter this entire thing, he's a madman on the drums who compliments the noise Kurt produces with precision and ferocity.

There's an argument to be made that Nevermind is not what Nirvana is, nor what grunge is, really, but no one can deny how great this one is, from start to finish.

Sometimes, for me at least, the explosiveness and abrasiveness of grunge gets a bit too much, but I still want to hear these guys play, so I turn to MTV Unplugged.

The songs get a new treatment, removing the noise, leaving only the spine of the whole thing. I guess the saying is right, "Silence speaks volumes". The emotion some of these songs carried on their studio versions is big. Here, they're even bigger. Songs like Come As You Are, Pennyroyal Tea and All Apologies all got a deafening and somber aura around it.

Oh, and don't forget about the covers. All of them get a new outfit and become the definitive edition, outshining the originals. The good thing about it is that Kurt gave them second wind (alongside the albums that made their way on his list of favorite albums).

Stupidly good, all around

Much has already been said about this album, and has been dissected to end and back in reverse. I'd say even more than Nevermind.

In Utero combines the pop backbone of Nevermind and adds the noisy touch Kurt was free to add and Albini was happy to oblige. The result was an album that proudly stands shoulder to shoulder with one of the best albums of the 90s. To some, even above it.

Part of what makes it great is how they created songs in the same vein as Nevermind (Serve The Servants, Dumb, Very Ape), but then adding an experimental touch to others (Tourette's, Scentless Apprentice).

What also stands out is how much this album feels like a letter to a psychologist. Kurt's mental health was at a downswing on Nevermind, but on In Utero it feels like rock bottom. Songs like Heart Shaped Box, Pennyroyal Tea and All Apologies show this.

If you were to ask me to name me which album I like more, I'd struggle. Both of them are good in their own right, with each highlighting different things, which means I enjoy them in different times. In Utero is for the moments where life brings you down, something I'm all too familiar with.

It's nothing bad, just electronic background noise akin to a Martin Garrix, Calvin Harris, or an Avicii. Not a single lightbulb moment on site. This sounds like the soundtrack to those nightclub missions from Payday, Max Payne and GTA V where bad guys enter the premise and you shoot around the dance floor.

Put this album on and everything you do will gain a new aspect of a gritty battle or a sneaky venture. For example, whilst listening to this album I had an intense monologue directed at a mosquito who was terrorizing me.

On a more serious note, Rythmes Contemporains is a very bulky and glamorous album, despite only clocking at 37 minutes. The orchestra of 45 instruments is most responsible with that, creating a sound that matches Nilovic's vision of a quasi gangster/mafia movie.

Another fun aspect is how the album (or better yet, Janko) lets the instruments breathe and gives way for these guys to show their chops. That's why you have a few cool drum passages, and some very nice guitar work.

I can look through the Dylan comparisons, for I have plenty of albums that I'd consider being copies/being inspired heavily by older artists.

But this album is missing something. Might be the length of it, or the safeness of the tracks, but I didn't feel invested at any moment other than the track "Back Home". It's not bad, it just feels very much like the product of its time: melodic reminiscing to the days of youth. Something the 00s were full of.