Reviews by deksametazon

Rory's first studio outing is one of his better ones, if not the best. It can be split into two categories: the faster, energetic, openers of each side, and the blues I'm interested in. The melancholic, slow burners.

Rory showed us in Taste, but in his solo career is where he managed to thread the fine line of showing just the perfect amount to pique interest but not be labeled a guitar wanker.

The closing track is a curious ditty. Other than being the longest track, it also features a combination of blues and jazz drumming by Wilgar Campbell. Gerry McAvoy also makes his first of many appearances on a Rory album, following Rory's guitar playing en suite, something that's a commendable achievement.

Orpheus Listening Challenge 2023: #34 An album with the name of a country or continent in its title (40th Album)

At first, it was for this category, but the length put me off, so we'll have to settle with this one.

This is my first time experiencing a live set from Rory, whom I've heard on studio discs before. I've loved him in the studio, but this live album is something else. A rocking album that showcases his immense talent as a showman and as a good guitarist. The status as one of the best is backed up here.

The thing that's understated here is just how bloody loud and full of music this thing is. Just listen to "Laundromat" to know what I'm talking about, but even past that, in the quieter, more folk oriented parts, you can still feel the tension and the loudness of the sparse moments of silence. It's a testament to Rory's command over not just volume but also the ability to captivate in quieter interludes, and move the crowd at any moment. Also worth mentioning is the double entendre of the production being slick, but sounding rough around the edges to give the feel of a true blueser of an album.

As any sophomore effort should be: the idea is a copy from the success of the debut, but expanded with more substance.

That's exactly what Deuce is. A really good combination of blues and jazz, with emotion really spread across more songs, alongside some superb blues playing.

As is the relationship between London Calling and punk, On Fire is a slowcore album in its motifs, but indie and dream pop in execution.

But for the most part, this album is a sad neo-psychedelia foray. A really good selection of originals like Blue Thunder, Strange, and Another Day to name a few. Fuzzy and warm guitars all around, with Wareham's vocals being uniquely whiny and "broken", but also emotional and a comforting hand to us who sing like a bird being choked out.

They also do a few covers, something which I'm opposed to in most cases, but here they sound different and well thought out and put together. Probably helps that the songs selected are a great idea to cover in a lethargic and soft manner.

What I absolutely love about this album, which would put any other album on the expressway to the trash bin, is that I can't remember any of it the next day. Only that I DID listen to it. And that I enjoyed the hell out of it. And that's enough for me.

Dude Repeater is such a banger of an album. I've widely dismissed it for some reason, which is a crime in itself, but what's even worse is that I DID listen to it a while back and STILL stood by that opinion.

At its core, rudimentary and angry punk, so to say, with some very passionate delivery, and tons of inspiration in each song. Turnover and Repeater have a memorable riff to them, with a great rhythm backbone, and songs like Blueprint and Shut The Door evoke the emotional side of punk.

Going off the path a bit, I love how passionate the reviews about this album are. It's like the Fugazi energy transcends the music and enters this review page.

Orpheus Listening Challenge 2024: #5 An album from 2024 (14th album)

The sound of the dying summer and autumn crushing the final dreams and aspirations you once had for this summer break.

If you know me, then you know my stance on these "pansy-pop" albums, as I like to call them. But surprisingly, this one is a bit on the more enjoyable side of things. That might be because of a lack of an annoyance factor that shreds any joy I have from listening to an album like this. Not present here. Sure, they proudly announce where they come from, but that's hardly a nuisance. Especially on a debut.

Not necessarily emo, but an emotional rock album. Mix in a bit of modern hazy vocals, and you get a breed of music that's a play on some older 00s indie stuff, with a polish of new added to it. If you were to dissect this album, you could easily trace the moments that were used as building blocks, but looking from a distance, it's a pleasant album.

Nothing More To Say is an album I've found back in my old days of sitting in front of my monitor, slinging from video to video on YouTube.

It's a very impressive modern reggae album. Even more impressive considering 95% of reggae not from Jamaica (or associated with Jamaica in some way) is ass. Also even, even more impressive is that the album was recorded while the singer was fighting with a disease that slowly killed him, in its final stages at the age of 33, with Klein never seeing this album's release

Nothing More To Say doesn't try to bring 70s reggae back. Instead, what it does it distill it through the modern sound of the New York underground, and the atmosphere of the diaspora that inhabits it.

The Frightnrs never disbanded, but have stopped making music out of respect for their frontman. And what a frontman he was -- a beautiful angelic voice. What remains is this monument to love and to him.

One of the things that the wave of 00s nostalgia brought is the yearning for a time past.

Caveman Wakes Up conjures a sound similar to MJ Lenderman (SIMILAR, not a ripoff) and even Bill Callahan by combining indie and alternative country, going for that sound of insecurity, introspection and the transition to urban isolation that crept up in that period. It has its moments, like Tree of Heaven, Wildwood in January, and Free Association, but it also has a big problem in having quite a few filler-sounding songs in there that hurt the enjoyment of the whole thing.

They've been around for 10 years, going strong. Caveman Wakes Up harbors a similar sentiment I had for Zach Bryan, in that this one feels like a springboard onto which the band would build up later. Until that subsequent album arrives, I'll enjoy the occasional track from this one.

A good album to wind down, but also to jam and nod to with the shadows in the late hours of the night. The empty nature of the cover reflects the music: at first glance, a blank space, but as you stare into the void, the void stares back. And it plays jazz.

Run-of-the-mill stuff. Making music under the pretense of indie rock to mask the lack of power in the vocals is a regrettable way to go about making an album in these times, but who am I to judge. Will Oldham, Jason Molina, and MJ Lendermann influenced, but with a lack of anything memorable.

It's really fun, I'll give it that. A no-frills, rock-all-night, fuzzy guitar bonanza. Respectable, but overall, not with that much substance. It still rocks well though. Perfect to put on and nod your head for 45 minutes

Jackson C. Frank was an American singer-songwriter whose life was plagued by sadness, mental health problems, and bad luck in general. In his short career, he only recorded one album. His self-titled 1965 debut. At the time of the release, it didn't get favorable reviews, but I guess that's to be expected when you have Bob Dylan, Buffalo Springfield, CSN&Y, Van Morrison and his debut, alongside many other amazing artists who I can't think to name, to compete with. Plus the album was nowhere near as, let's call it "upbeat", like some other albums at the time. Thanks to movies like "Joker" and "The Brown Bunny", Frank is slowly getting recognition and is now widely considered to be at a level with some of the greatest to ever do it.

The entire album is filled with great tracks with sparse arrangments, with only Franks guitar and a second guitar supplied by Al Stewart and Paul Simon (who also produced the album). The album opens up with "Blues Run The Game" which is a perfect introduction to what this album is all about, and it's followed by songs like "Don't Look Back" and "Yellow Walls" and side A is ended with "Here Comes The Blues" which perfectly ends side A with a taste of what's to come on side B.

Now comes the fun part, side B. In my opinion, side B is perfect. No exceptions. It is just pure melancholy and sadness, with lyrics that detail unrequited love and struggles with depression and sadness and the lack of reason to be happy. And he meant every lyric he wrote. At the age of 22 when he wrote this album, he had reason to be sad and depressed as if he went through 60 years of pure bad events and luck. His girlfriend died a fire that left him with more than 50% of his body burned, he had gland problems followed by joint pain.

Such a sad life. I tend to think about what could've happened to people like these, that had mental health problems that most of those around them didn't, or wouldn't want to, understand. If you're feeling down, talk with a friend, or a psychiatrist. Mental health is no joke, and if there's anyone who knows what's wrong with you, it's you.

I fully recommend checking out this album if you're feeling blue. Everything is recommended, especially side B.

Good background music with a lot of influence from 70s South American music. Enjoyable, but I feel like the best is yet to come. Keep an eye on her.

Like walking through a deaf expanse, where sounds are so scarce, that any tonal change makes your brain go on and create its own music out of it. Like a live improv session with a tight band in your head.

This album is the most known Blaze Foley release. The obvious comparison is Van Zandt’s Live at the Old Quarter, Houston, Texas, both of which are recorded in an intimate atmosphere with only a guitar, dry wit, sorrowful tunes, and quiet talk between guests.

Soundwise, it sort of feels like a child of John Prine, and Townes van Zandt. And while not on the level of Van Zandt in terms of poetry (and the wit), Foley has the edge to make the whole album an enjoyable journey. The banter is nice, his guitar playing is simplistic, and without fault. Sometimes it's a bit vulgar, and for a few moments, it doesn't quite hit the mark, but once he does those heartfelt string-tuggers? Man, oh man.

This one sounds both fresh and dusty. Dusty in the sense that it evokes old folk traditions from the Isles with a dense compact sounds that feels desolate around the edges, almost like a village. But its also fresh and new with its beyond the sea approach, adding a dash of Americana to the mix.

It belongs in the 2000s "stomp clap hey" revival of folk, and while I do despise the likes of Of Mice and Men, Mumford & Sons, and to an extent Fleet Foxes (though their sound is a twilight version of the whole thing), Johnny Flynn's sound rises beyond them, mostly due to the single man approach, with the backing band doing what they're supposed to be doing: backing the guy. Oh, and Johnny embracing a delicate version of folk, far from the bombast of the formerly mentioned bands.

His songwriting is beautiful, and varied in approach, thanks to his background as an actor, particularly a stage actor. And the backing band flows well too. They do the moody ambiance well and are quite adept in bringing in a lively atmosphere. I'm glad I was recommended this album, because it shed down a bit of the animosity I had towards the stupid (yes, I'm still holding a grudge against it) direction folk took.

Beautiful combination of folk and bossa nova that's vaguely Astrud Gilberto, Nico, and Joni Mitchell simultaneously. This album fits nicely in any day. I'm currently listening to it while the snow slowly sits on the tree branches, but have been listening since the sun was scorching the fields, and the rains have soaked the earth, and it fits every moment.

Her voice feels like a cloud floating around the room, which is its selling point, but I also find value in the easy listening backing which is both background level, but

Orpheus Listening Challenge 2024: #28 A dance album from the 1990s. (48th album)

The British baggy explosion metastasizes onto Japanese soil, and we get Doctor Head's World Tower as a result.

Lots of plundering going on here, with probably all the songs having an underlying sample from a popular song, but entire songs are rooted inside the neo-psych. Would recommend solely because of the happy nature these guys cultivated. It's infectious and with a penchant for a nice groove: These guys know their craft.

In all honesty, the only reason I even remotely decided to check this album out is because the cover reminds me of some late 90s, early 00s alt gems, and to be fair this album doesn't veer too far from that sound. You can hear many influences like AiC, Deftones, Evanescence, and some early shoegaze like LSD and the Search for God. The album is definitely one of those that merit a few listens to get something out of it, but on the first listen, it's an overall enjoyable foray. Also, it's not a long album, but it feels a lot longer than it is.