Right up there with Roxy Music/Bryan Ferry and Prefab Sprout at the tip-top of that oft-forgotten genre echelon crossbreed of 80's cocaine pop, bossa nova and lounge known as "sophisi-pop", Swing Out Sister are also perhaps the classiest and most soulful of the lot. Jimmy Webb even directs an orchestra in a few spots, but on the whole this is would serve as a pretty decent noir soundtrack for an era so wrapped up in the glory of synthesized soul.
Somewhere in the world, I think, between Corrine Drewery's sumptuous pleas and the immaculate soundscaping prowess of Andy Connell on keyboards/guitar is the image of a strange, yet beautiful place that will never return...and that, my friends, is a tragedy.
Ukraine for me might as well be the other side of the goddamn moon for all the connection I have with the country, but what bands do tend to rear their heads out of that National Socialist haven (such as black-folk metal masqueraders Noktuяиαl Moяtuм) tend to have a knack for spinning you upside the ankle and knocking us feeble outside audiences on our collective asses.
This record is a sheer majesty in the art of pummeling your fucking mind to peanut brittle and then reviving whatever corpse remains into the likeness of a cream clad Seraphim. The keyboards sound in waves, and the onslaught of acoustics is a gorgeous, striking contrast ('The Sky Of Sorrowful Nights') to the madness and mercury of 'Valkiriya' and other +10 minute monstrosities.
A certain frame of mind is needed, but this may just be the best freakin' black metal album you'll ever sit through.
Swedish power-progressive-pop-trio (big mouthful there) Bяothεя Apε are one of the more interesting bands to come out of Sweden in the last several decades, if for nothing else than that they don't quite sound like any other group in the vast multitude of scenes and pantheons that constitutes the independent musicale uncommercial worldwide. Echoes of Yes, Rush and Kaipa are all over the arrangements, guitar work and songwriting, but the execution here on 2006's Shαngяi-Lα comes across as a oft-ignored individual in a world full of people trying to sound and act like one another.
Jazzy, knotty and at times strikingly magnificent, this band could rule the world if the world would simply give a damn in turn.
New Jack Swing-80's-pop-Christmas-stuff. Thankfully, the original compositions here outnumber the covers, and the whole thing reeks wonderfully of Alexander's sensibility when it comes to production lushness as well.
With that said, I wish a MerryChristmasto each and every one of you. Enjoy! :)
Before some rather nasty legal trouble involving a woman and his trouser snake landed him in the joint until fairly recently, Mr. Michael Lawrence Tyler (AKA Mysτikαl) was arguably the hottest name in The Game, a status that was cemented in both songwriting and production on his 2001 magnum opus Tαrαиτulα.
Bling, the streets, bitches, gettin' pussy, bitches: all your favorite boom rap subject matter is here and ready to roll like a joint gone mean n' Cuban. Every track's got a nasty fine hook to the jaw: the title track bellows like an angry beast to the tune of a couple of pissed off synth arpeggios. Lines of all kinds get snorted throughout: bass, synths, beats galore. We even get horns on tracks like 'That's That Shit', but without all that self-conscious ATCQ crap holding back the pimp within.
The James Brown of hip-hop is here to blow some mothafuckin' MINDS boys & girls, so put that in your bowls and smoke it!
One of five albums in my vast collection that I consider a desert island disc, this is, at least in my eyes, the single best contemporary/smooth jazz record that has ever been recorded by anyone at any period of time. Closely matched in overall quality by only a few other artists in this sort of genre or related areas (Toshiki Kadomatsu, Pat Metheny, Kit Walker and jazz-fusioners Karizma), the superlatives I could lay upon the nine cuts within this disc are near infinite. Deceptively accessible, melodic and boiling with atmosphere, this was an album recorded just as the Rips had begun to hit their peak. Russ Freeman, guitar god that he is, was beginning to experiment a bit more with guitar synths, percussionist Steve Reid was coming into his role as the group's sound architect and soundscaper, and Brandon Fields demonstrates time and time again what a damn good alto saxophonist can do when he isn't trying to be a hack like David Sanborn.
Needless to say, this is a strong record through and through, with four out of nine pieces in particular cementing this album's place at the godhead of all things smooth and Weather Channelesque. First is the title track, opened and closed out with some swooshing Korg synths and a steady drumline that remains (even into 2011) the coolest intro to any muzak ever written. Carl Anderson even scats throughout! Next you have the 6.5 minute 'One Summer Night In Brazil', which while slow remains sumptuous, beautifully textured and even tideful thanks to a combination of acoustic guitar, a couple of skins and Freeman. The last two, 'Earthbound' and 'Destiny' are a punchy pair that kick things up a notch in pace yet remain slick and electrified. They help close out one hell of a strong set, and are in fact worth the price of admission in a nutshell.
I can count the albums on both hands that made me sit up and suck in every track in only one go-around, with Yes's Close To The Edge, The Stooges' Fun House, It Bites' The Tall Ships and Soundgarden's Badmotorfinger being a couple of the big ones. Records that outperform, outclass, breezing through hooks, ideas and dynamics in twenty to forty minutes that make entire other bands' recorded outputs look like yesterday's garbage.
This was the album that turned me into a fanatic of all things smooth, the catalyst for a million other brilliant discoveries both analogous and bizarre, and nothing captures the late 80's better by a country mile.
There must be something awfully magical over in Scandinavia's water supply, because some of the best melodic-anything in a variety of genres has continually emerged out of Sweden and Norway with almost bewildering consistency. From progressive metal (Pain Of Salvation, Opeth) to AOR (Work Of Art, Treat) and so on and so forth, there's a little something for everyone out there...almost to the point where you'd need half a dozen Twitter feeds just to keep track of it all! That being said, you don't have to be a eclectic guy like me to appreciate the good stuff from that side of the pond. Just ask any Pitchfork-slobbering ponce from the last six years or your local Zooey Deschanel wannabes, cause there's one act that'll pop up again and again no matter where (if at all) you reside in the great Indie-sphere: Kiиgs Of Coиvεиiεиcε, a modern Simon & Garfunkel type who play some of the dardnest pretty folk stuffz you'll ever have the pleasure of hearing. 2004's Rioτ Oи Aи Eмpτy Strεετ finds guitar/vocal duo Erlend Øye and EirikBøe plucking and harmonizing away (and occasionally bolstered behind via strings, drums, etc.) in a contemporary homage to everyone from America to *insert singer/songwriter here* who's taken a leaf out of the playbook of Antonio Carlos Jobim. Although the more singles-oriented out there probably know this record from dancier tracks like 'I'd Rather Dance With You' and 'Love Is No Big Truth', a smarter listener will delve in beyond those two and find the real gold therein. Tracks like 'Surprise Ice' and the heart-wincing melody driven 'Cayman Islands' could have been recorded at any time over the last forty years and still come out as blindsidingly gorgeous.
Great autumnal albums don't come 'round too often my friends, so take a gander and have your hearts be cured of sleeping miseries. Try It Buy It
