And there’s something about the reedy voice that does it; underpowered, outta tune, seemingly intent on making yer man from Atlas Sound sound like Rammstein.
And there’s something about the reedy voice that does it; underpowered, outta tune, seemingly intent on making yer man from Atlas Sound sound like Rammstein.
(Moon Glyph) Sample track https://soundcloud.com/
Well boys and girls this just goes to show that checking your mails CAN have some benefits. It’s easy to get jaded reading the puerile nonsense some PR people spout when trying to explain a record to you. But there was something about the way the mail advertising this EP completely avoided telling me why I should listen and just gave me the links. It made me feel wanted, like the world wasn’t on my bleeding back. And what do you know, after a few listens this release reveals itself to be a gem.
Also, (Sing hallebloodylujah!), the description has some bearing on my listening experience. Apparently this record was hammered into place in somewhere known as the Clown Lounge; which (apparently) boasts a ‘laid-back midwestern rusticism; wood paneled walls, cheap taxidermy and back-lit forestscapes next to a dimly lit stage.’ Whether that description can be said to fully encapsulate this particular brand of Transatlantic Arcady is something we will never fully know. What I can tell you is that the sounds on this record do somehow bring cheap taxidermy and wood panelling to mind…
In the main, this record never gets out of first gear, conjuring mental images of a dreamy, soft focus road trip; Roky driving round his estate at 0mph, whilst listening to a drugged up Eagles playing at 17rpm. That kind of thing. There’s also something about the reedy vocals that help; underpowered, nasal and slightly straining to hit the note, seemingly intent on making yer man from Atlas Sound sound like Rammstein. Pretty much all of the music on here is fabulously horizontal; the title track happily taking the lead in presenting a brilliant dubby mix of whacked out Kraftwerk, Orb and those bits in those new, New Agey-MOR-Tie-Dye-pop records (War of Drugs, Amen Dunes, looking at you here) that are good. Oh, it also sounds like the music you’d want to pass out in your local boozer to. It’s seriously good.