Reviews by kuvien

This is how jazz magic happens: artists playing separately at a jazz festival decide to get together and give an impromptu concert later that same week. You can't get more jazz than that, and you can hear the infectious joy, the confident and elegant energy, on this live recording! The opening track will turn the most hardened frown upside down. Give it a spin. I'm sure your soul can handle the jazz.

Someone's alone in your city tonight...and he's probably down at the YMCA, so why not go on down there and do whatever you feel?

The monkey and the thunder invoke Ney, who in turn invokes the orgasmic spirit of an album that explores the intoxicating borders between city and jungle.

This is a rough album, but that’s a plus in my book, especially when I learned the crazy story behind its production. Mateo writes, sings, and plays everything on this album, and that’s impressive enough, but I like how he went into the studio without any complete compositions, worked on them as he went, was continually dissatisfied with the recordings and demanded they be tossed the next day, and then one day after a protracted month of recording, just walked out of the studio never to return. The producer had to scramble to throw the album together, choosing what songs went on and in what order! It’s a beautiful, untidy little album with plaintive vocals and candombe drum playing in spots. Enchanting music made by an odd, vagrant bard.

A very short-lived Robert Wyatt project. For a dude who broke his back and was paralyzed, he sure did get around! This album showcases what Wyatt can do and how broadly he wanted to spread his musical wings in Soft Machine but couldn’t. Here he doesn’t suffer under those restrictions. The soil was fecund, and the gardener eager to get to work in it.

[https://imgur.com/8pPf3xI,I want to die.]

I just want to stick an electric toothbrush in his flaccid horsemouth.

Caterwauling trash.

This is lyrically so bad it's laughable. Songs contradict their own internal sentiments because... I don't know. Because the phrases were cliches in love songs at the time, and they rhyme with what Marx said the line before. Trash.

Holy shit, guys! Did yall listen to the lyrics? They're so deep. Also, I love this band for inventing the saxophone. amazing!

Music nerds rate this album low. Young girls laugh at those nerds. True story.

Wow. "Clinch to Grinch" is a masterpiece compared to this.

Greatest hits artist

Along with and, Bob Marley completes the trinity of artists whose studio albums just aren't good enough to listen to on their own but who have an amazing collection of songs that make for a stellar greatest hits collection.

Marina continues to grow, both professionally and personally. You can really hear it in her songs, how she's come to accept certain things about herself and how she seems to be more comfortable with herself sexually. This album is more mature, richer, and more lush. It's sweet fruit juice dribbling down your chin.

This is the pop-opera of the rise and fall of Electra Heart, the diva who wanted it all, got it, lost it, and kills herself. This is Marina at her most cynical, and she nails it. Here is pop with substance, talking of lost virginity and divinity, of suicidal thoughts, of triumphs and regrets. And it all ends with her singing to herself in the bathtub, waiting for her life to drain from her wrists.

Pop music just doesn't get better than Marina. She has it all: talent, looks, attitude...but there's more than meets the eye with her. She's cynical, smart, and she writes the best damn pop songs! This is a helluva debut, and she comes out swinging, taking shots at the music, modeling, and film industries, calling them out for all their bullshit.

A healthy dose of optimism and self-esteem balanced against the harsh realities of life. This music sets a powerful, undeniable rhythm around and over which the horns and guitars explore and express themselves. Clocking in at only 26 minutes, this more like an EP, a glimpse into a kind of funk that uplifts.

snaps fingers

fetch me my crossbow

Do you ever feel like you're the calm center of a maelstrom whipping around you, tearing everything except you apart? You're not the cause of the storm; you're not its effect. You just happened to have been in the exact spot where the tempest formed, and it was either ride the roil or become its victim.

Have you ever imagined you could reach through a mirror and touch its other side, to interact with all that is backwards, inverted, and topsy-turvy, where your waltzing shadow is afraid of you? Everything there knows you're not supposed to be on the other side of the looking glass, so a fresh gale arises--this time a storm of shades--to blow you back.

A beautiful, haunting orchestral pop album with delightfully discordant moments punctuating the spoken word narrative. And they don’t skimp on the harpsichord, either. I guess it’s the way it was recorded I don’t know, but listening to this on good headphones is a treat. Little things going on here and there, and the way the audio shifts from one ear to another is quite nice. The whole thing sounds quite ahead of its time as an elaborate concept album with literary airs.