Reviews by kuvien

Part eerie, part spacey, part pastoral, a spelunking journey through 70s prog complete with touches of zeuhl and dominated by keyboard electronics.

A modern French jazz "let it be". I get a real sense of joy from this album.

"All I need" is to never hear another Fiona Apple record.

If you can do "anything you want", then why didn't you write better songs?

Tryhard cringe.

It's when I hear albums like this that I get a little more optimistic about this whole "one world" thing people are talking about, because the world is in this music. No, I don't mean World Music. I'd never insult any album by maligning it so. What I mean is that this music is open to and unashamed of influence, no matter what area of the world it originated from. And not only is this music a conversation across borders, it allows the precious hardanger fiddle to wander through a soft, electronic garden.

The hardanger fiddle. That's it. 27 minutes of simple, ethereal beauty. Music from Otherplace, where you get lost between path and forest, between shore and sea.

Excellent fiddle playing dripping with pathos. The progression of the album is excellent, starting off with something more understandable, more digestible, before moving into more experimental territory. Sparse percussion, seemingly-random plucking of strings, even a bit of electronics thrown in like echoes or sonic paintings.

One of those albums that gives me chills, especially the apocalyptic spoken word parts. The visionary nature of this psych rock is first rate goodies. This album is so disjointed I'd not really call it a concept album but rather an album with a lot of different things going on built around a concept. I love the variety of musical influences and explorations on display here. Even the baum-chicky-baum corniness of "The Beast" somehow, weirdly, fits right in. Not at all the way I'd envision a musical presentation of the Revelation according to St. John. The track entitled "∞" is where it's at for me, though, the highlight of the album. What can I say? I like orgasms, especially religious orgasms.

Lesbian UnpreparedForLifeCore.

Though I prefer Stivell to Triskell, this album is in the same folk vein, so it cannot go too far off course from my tastes anyway. Not much information available on this rare vinyl LP that was never re-pressed or re-released on any other format.

Beautiful Celtic folk rendered by twin brothers and their friends in charming rustic dances and wistful ballads, just what one would expect of folk explorations on acoustic guitar, Celtic harp, and tin whistle. Dulcimer and harpsichord complete the transportation to the time when Celtic traditions enjoyed a revival in the music of the 60s and 70s.

Garbage. Why do people have to be this way?

This album has a lot of unexpected yet welcome turns. It’s got a warm, jazzy, mellow, dreamy feel, though not throughout. Why does music always sound better when you’re tired? These after-work on-the-train albums always hit me right. This music feels like slipping into a long, hot bath.

It's not as bad as their recent crap but not as good as their old gems. The very definition of rEtUrN tO fOrM overhype.

I get the sense that the Collective is more interested in exploring the human animal as a biological sound-making machine. Many of the vocals on this album ripple past my ears like my head is underwater in a fast-flowing stream. They do not flow to my heart but are tangential in their significance, like it’s all an experiment. And don’t forget the most profound thing the Collective ever sang: “you don’t have to go to college.”

I understand why Animal Collective gets some hate (though a lot of people love them): they’re kind of obnoxious, quite manic, quirky, and pseudo-experimental without being so experimental they alienate the psychedelia listener. Most people are like “what the fuck is this unlistenable garbage?” whereas others will be like “if I want experimental, I listen to a real band like so-and-so”. Animal Collective is in a kind of grey area. Inaccessible to the casual listener and not quite enough for the experimental listener. As far as my listening expectations are concerned, I enjoy the melodic structures of the songs with all the art pop experimentation they lay over them. The Collective creates sonic worlds you can walk through and wallow in, like tall grass in summer.

Children giggling in an underwater bird sanctuary, the little tweets and chirps escaping the avians' beaks in visible speech bubbles. I can always taste this album, sweet as honey and heady as summer, as this music never fails to evoke a synesthetic response from me. Kaleidoscopes...carousels...hallelujah! Falling inward laughing.

According to the octet, this album is a mix of Mingus and Bley. Yeah, no wonder I dig it. West African and Balkan rhythms working together, too. I'm not ever going to get emotional about experimental big band music, but when it's well done, there's really nothing else like it.

This doesn't have the punch of their other two albums, but it's still an amazing document of symphonic prog. It's delicate and beautiful, and the haunting flutes give rise to bold musical phrases centered around the guitar. This is the only one of Änglagård's albums that isn't canon, and I think it should be included.