Reviews by kuvien

I hate sophisti-pop for the same reason I hate IDM.

This has a healthy dose of dark RIO complexity in it, like musical spelunking. Quite a journey through disturbing, alchemical darkness!

I don't have much to say about this album, but that's not a bad thing. I enjoy this album as background mood. Great for early morning when things are still quiet. I don't feel the warmth of this one, though, like some people seem to but rather the opposite: a cold loneliness pervades this lo-fi, warbly, meandering music.

Lo-fi simplicity with dreamy vocals, hand-clapping and bell-ringing percussive elements. Heavy use of droning keyboards and same-chord guitar strumming to flesh out the tracks. Sounds quite hollow, I'm sure intentionally. Hollow as a sonic descriptor, not a judgment. It's all like...putting your ear to a pipe that runs off through the woods and over the hills to some distant place you can't see but can hear through the pipe the music being played. Gives it an intimate and private, yet distant, feel.

I bet this album is deep and real, but I don't care. The kind of country artist who garners praise from non-country fans is not my kind of country, generally speaking. As soon as this album started, I was like "oh it's *this* kind of country". I'm sure it's amazing. I'm sure his recovery is genuine and praiseworthy. Pass.

Irvine has a silver tongue for traditional folk storytelling--real troubadour stuff--and on this album he's got a great bunch of musicians around him to bring out all the liveliness (or pathos, where appropriate) that one would expect of Celtic music. He also dips his toes in Australian and American traditions.

This is Phil Ochs to Matana Roberts' Bob Dylan.

This record has one of the best titles ever, and yet that is not even the best thing about this unassailable album, a collection of fine indie folk tunes of such fragile beauty, and like so many folk songs, that beauty is married to musings on death.

It's like a library music soundtrack to a 70s movie.

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People are dumb. The whole thing was stupid. The bassist plucking out the pace of the idiotic crowd moment, the asshole with the mic, the people being given reacharounds by their shared experience. Hated hearing it. Felt embarrassed, like I was spying on something I wasn't meant to hear.

Just because the sun rises early in the summer doesn't mean people do, so rise with the sun when the warm world is still quiet, make yourself a coffee, and fall into the delicate beauty of this rustic album steeped in remembrance. And don't forget your mother.

Put this album on first thing in the morning, when it's still cold and misty outside. This music clings to you like dead, wet leaves on the frosty ground. Just looking at the genres, I think anyone can guess how atmospheric this album is, drawing on specific cultural sounds to evoke a mood that, although not completely authentic, is beautiful and ethereal.

Music for when you're dining on ashes and in a mood for some meditation. A lot of the vocals sound like they were recorded in a church, which means they probably weren't. Just made to sound like they were. A lot of nuance that can be picked up on headphones in a quiet place, not to be listened to while distracted. The tracks all have telling titles that are reflected in the music, like "Salome" sounding like a seductive dance of death, for example. This album is not only steeped in Sufi mysticism but also draws on Orthodox traditions. For the love of God, let yourself wander through this music.

Such a strong, swaggering blues rock spine to support the complex, creative body of this progressive music. What I really love about this album is how it knows how to be quiet and use texture to communicate its force.

Once I glanced over a translation of the lyrics, the mysterious poetry delighted me. The music is mostly mellow, like water at low tide after a fleet of ships, their sails puffed by music, outrun the waves that carried them out to sea. Breezy, expansive, not at all confining music. The penultimate track is the only veering off course, as it has a harder rock sound to it. The vocalist, after all, is questioning dogs of different colors.

The first track is quite the jazz-rock (with avant-garde moments) journey through the bleeding peach orchard. Careful! Those things are alive...and in pain. Let the guitar poems be your guide among the leafy trees.

Apparently this music is quite political, and though I can understand it from a meta-perspective, I actually understand nothing of what's going on lyrically here. But the music is beautiful and moving, nonetheless. This music transports me to the Andes on the wings of flutes and drums, and when I get there, I'm content to just sit and listen.

Some music is so pretty you wanna squish it. Sometimes it's so soft you could wrap it around your shoulders like a scarf. Make yourself a big cup of tea before listening to this album that just so happens to contain the most beautiful happy birthday song you'll ever hear.

Pretty standard live punk rock, exhorting us to not give a shit and to stop being so polite.