Three-One.

Feb. 4th, 2012 12:28 pm
urgencytobleed: (Default)
Guess who feels like an asshole right now? Yep, me. I knew it was a bad sign when I started skipping days between posting reviews and I knew it would only get worse once I started school again... so, of course, fast forward a month later and I still haven't revealed my top three. I'm sure anyone who once would have cared hates me by now. I also don't have proper reviews to post with these. Not because they aren't good. Naturally, they are very good. I just don't have it in me to write about them at length. So I'm mostly going to let the music speak for itself, though I do have a few half-hearted words to go along with it. Seriously, ignore how flaky I am in my posting habits and just listen to it, please.

Read more... )

Alright, now I'm probably going to disappear again for... awhile. The foreseeable future. You can keep up with me here or on Tumblr, where I need more friends!

Four.

Jan. 5th, 2012 06:17 pm
urgencytobleed: (hand that pen over to me poetaster!)
Bombay Bicycle Club - A Different Kind of Fix


Hey, everybody, A Different Kind of Fix is probably one of the year's best albums that you haven't heard; seriously, is it just me or has this album flown way under the radar? I haven't seen very many people at all talking about it, at least not here in the States. Even if the rest of the album was utterly horrible (which, obviously, it is not), "Shuffle" is the best pop song, bar none, that I've heard all year - hell, it's probably battling with one or two others for the best song of 2011, period. It's that good (and, in an alternate universe, should be a massive radio hit). The song showcases everything Bombay Bicycle Club has to offer at its absolute peak: the instrumentation is interesting (note the repeated piano motif that sounds a bit like a little kid hitting the keys at random and the electronic sampling that also reoccurs throughout the song) but not off-putting, Jack Steadman's vocals are quirky and highly individual but not polarizing and the melodies are diverse enough that, though it follows in the vein of a classic pop song, it also retains a sense of unpredictability. Basically, the song is immediate and traditional enough to appeal to a mass audience while also being creative and refreshing enough to impress those music aficionados who are a little harder to please - it's truly the best of both worlds. The rest of the album works in a similar way: there may not be anything too edgy here but it isn't simply a rehash of things we've all heard before either. The technique of heavy repetition in a single song can easily backfire and become boring or tedious to listen to but the repetition in opener "How Can You Swallow So Much Sleep" gives the song a hypnotic and driving quality that is anything but dull; it sets the bar for the rest of the album extremely high. Luckily, Bombay Bicycle Club best themselves time and time again. Vocalist Lucy Rose contributes to several tracks and her clean, airy timbre contrasts well with Steadman's characteristic warble. On the almost tropical-sounding "Lights Out, Words Gone," her subtle backing vocals only contribute to the song's unique atmosphere, like a cool island breeze, and her effortlessly light repetition of the song's title in "Leave It" leads beautifully into the more intense sections of the song, which find Steadman singing passionately, "Don't you go evade me now/Come see what you've done/I keep thinking lately how/All these feelings won." Other highlights include "Bad Timing," which is slightly more jarring and experimental than anything else on the album, "What You Want," another basically flawless pop song, and devastating closer "Still." In this final song, Steadman sings purely in a wavering, heartbreaking falsetto such potent lines as, "Did he fill the empty spaces/Was he everything I'm not?/There's no force behind my mouth/But in just three words he brings you down/There's a movement out the door, I swear, but no/Your lips, they stay perfectly still." The way this last word is electronically drawn out, simmering just beneath the vocal layers of the chorus, lends an even more unsettling effect to the song. It's an intensely emotional finale, most similar in style to the minimal, acoustic balladry of last year's Flaws but dialed way up to ten, and it'll stay with you long after listening. As a whole, A Different Kind of Fix is one of the most immensely listenable albums I've heard in a long time - it's certainly the one I've most often felt the urge to put on.

Five.

Jan. 5th, 2012 09:26 am
urgencytobleed: (Default)
Los Campesinos! - Hello Sadness


It's staggering to consider how prolific Los Campesinos! has been since the band released their debut full-length, Hold on Now, Youngster..., in 2008; less than four years later, Hello Sadness is their fourth album (along with a rather impressive array of single releases and b-sides). Even more staggering is just how much the band has evolved musically in that span of time. To play the dark, brooding Hello Sadness next to the buoyant, youthful Hold on Now, Youngster... makes for a stark contrast in both mood and complexity. Yet, at the same time, both sound distinctly like Los Campesinos! albums, impossible to mistake for anything else. While Gareth's vocals have deepened and become less erratic, his acerbic lyrics more introspective and mature and the infectious melodies subtler and more experimental, these essential elements that set the band apart from others of their ilk still remain. "By Your Hand" and "Hello Sadness," with their bouncy choruses set off by rather depressing lyrics ("It's only hope that springs eternal/And that's the reason why/This dripping from my broken heart/Is never running dry"), are among the catchiest songs the band has ever concocted; they also display a stunning amount of depth, building on the heightened emotional resonance of last year's Romance Is Boring. In fact, the heart-wrenching "To Tundra" brings to mind one of that album's late highlights, "The Sea Is a Good Place to Think of the Future," with its gradual build-up to an impassioned finale, which finds Gareth pleading in a wounded wail, "Take a body to water/Take a body to tundra/Just take me with you as well." Also memorable in the second half of the album are "The Black Bird, the Dark Slope" and "Baby I Got the Death Rattle," the latter for Gareth's characteristically self-deprecating and humorous lyrics ("You are an angel, that's why you pray/And I am an ass and that's why I bray") and the former for its soaring chorus, a rare solo moment for Gareth's sister, Kim. As a replacement for former female vocalist Aleksandra, she is utilized mostly for harmonies throughout Hello Sadness, which makes her raspy, slightly soulful turn in the spotlight all the more delightful. At only ten songs, Hello Sadness is a much more compact affair than its predecessor and it is also much more consistent, without a moment of filler. It is the band's most accomplished album to date and it'll be a difficult one to top - though I think the members of Los Campesinos! have already proven they're quite capable of outdoing themselves time and time again.

Six.

Jan. 5th, 2012 02:53 am
urgencytobleed: (Default)
I really do have three of these to post today. They're written and everything this time, promise.

Laura Marling - A Creature I Don't Know


At first, A Creature I Don't Know seems like Laura Marling's chilliest album to date. Gone is the earnest romanticism of Alas I Cannot Swim. Gone too is most of the unbridled passion and world-weary cynicism of I Speak Because I Can. The absence of these qualities may initially make the album appear to be less of an accomplishment than its predecessors, slight and strangely closed-off. Even the most bombastic songs - the darkly playful horn-infused "The Muse," the sinister and bluesy slow-building rocker "The Beast" - sound naked and blunt, simplistic in a way that even the most reserved, stripped-down moments on I Speak Because I Can were not. It's hard to pinpoint what exactly makes the album so initially impenetrable: is it the no-frills, organic production that perhaps sometimes falls a little too flat? Is it the more abstract, impersonal lyrics or the fact that Marling's voice remains, for the most part, on a low simmer? Though these slight changes may at first keep the listener distanced from the music, ultimately, it is also these changes that makes A Creature I Don't Know such a beautiful album. It is possible that the songs here will not immediately hit you emotionally, the way that I Speak Because I Can felt like such a punch to the gut; their simplicity and subtlety is instead more like a slowly-twisting knife - they root themselves inside of your brain, ever so slightly chipping away with every listen until, suddenly, they become some of the most tender, aching and genuinely affecting sounds you've ever heard. This time, the impact of Marling's voice is not in its volume or intensity but in the barely perceptible changes in inflection it can undergo in a single line and the impact of her lyrics is not in their barely-contained anger but in what lies beneath the surface of that anger. Nowhere is this more apparent than in the three-track run of "Salinas," "The Beast" and "Night After Night." Emotionally dizzying on all levels, it is actually in their quiet beginnings that they most shine - nothing is more heartbreaking than Marling's understated, slightly husky voice barely rising above a whisper with only a gently-strummed acoustic guitar for accompaniment. The way she utters certain lines, imbuing them with far deeper meaning than comes across simply in the words ("That gun will turn before the sun starts to burn, understand;" "He lies, he lies, so sweet that I choke;" "Dear lover forgiven, my love is driven by rage"), is stunning to say the least. "I Was Just a Card" and "Don't Ask Me Why" are less sprawling and adventurous musically but thanks to some lovely string arrangements and, again, Marling's impressive talent both vocally and lyrically, just as affecting. The lyrics in "Don't Ask Me Why," particularly, are downright poetic: "I took the wind from the sea/I took the blood from an arrow/I took the wisdom of spring/I was thrown and blown and tossed and turned until/Time found its hand and called it an end/Me and time, we go way back when/I was a child/And I always knew why." A Creature I Don't Know is not an album that wears its heart on its sleeve - but do not let that lead you to believe it does not have a heart at all. Marling only keeps growing better and she is also an artist who does not seem content to settle; her musical future is wide open.

Seven.

Jan. 3rd, 2012 04:11 pm
urgencytobleed: (kneel and crawl to hell and back)
I apologize. I missed a couple days because I had a bit of trouble writing this review and/or I just felt incredibly lazy. Anyway, I may or may not post one or two more reviews today to catch up. Either that or this'll just take a bit longer than I expected.

Lykke Li - Wounded Rhymes


Wounded Rhymes is, oddly, one of the most playful albums I've heard this year but also one of the most melancholy. The insanely catchy melodies and Lykke Li's uniquely cheeky delivery make it an incredibly fun and addictive listen. At the same time, that voice, an intriguing combination of girlish and husky, can just as easily transform into something achingly mournful. That, along with the album's slower, subtler moments and its boom-y, spacious production, lend Wounded Rhymes a far more mature, reflective, even bleak quality than Li's lightweight debut, Youth Novels. As both a songwriter and a performer, Li's growth over the past few years is obvious and remarkable. What is most stunning about Wounded Rhymes is the confidence it exudes and the fact that it carries such a distinct sound - yet Li's newfound confidence never grows overbearing. Though the album's most immediately infectious tracks - "Youth Knows No Pain," "Get Some," "Rich Kids Blues" - find Li tossing out quick-witted, sarcasm-laced lyrics in an aggressively flirtatious way (most memorably, the oft-repeated guarantee, "I'm your prostitute/You gon' get some"), she is also capable of dialing down the cockiness to genuinely tug at the listener's heartstrings. "Love Out of Lust" is a gorgeously languorous track, a sort of slow-motion dance song, rich, expansive and cinematic. The album's emotional peak, "I Know Places," is an incredibly stripped-down ballad which allows Li to give her most plaintive, truly goosebump-raising vocal performance, sucking the listener completely into the song's sorrowful realm. The moments that shine brightest, though, fall between these extremes. There's "I Follow Rivers," which is just as catchy as any of the previously-mentioned tracks but also just eccentric enough and just dark enough to leave a real, long-lasting impact. It's actually oddly unsettling, with its slightly off-kilter percussion, quirky and child-like in an almost creepy way, and lyrics that are maddeningly cryptic, but not enough to keep you from listening over and over again. "Sadness Is a Blessing" is far less eerie but just as captivating. It most successfully embodies the layered, echo-laden '70s pop style that informs the entire album and it features what is probably Li's most technically impressive vocal. Also, for being so deceptively cutesy, the chorus is one of the album's bleakest: "Sadness is a blessing/Sadness is a pearl/Sadness is my boyfriend/Oh, sadness, I'm your girl." Wounded Rhymes, as a whole, is memorable not only for showcasing such a drastic change in sound and leap in artistry but also, simply, for being one of the finest albums of the year from beginning to end. Li may not be the best composer or lyricist or vocalist on this list but the fearlessness she displays on Wounded Rhymes has been one of my biggest - and best - surprises this year. I didn't go into this album expecting to adore it, which makes it all the more satisfying that it managed to win me over so thoroughly.

Eight.

Dec. 31st, 2011 04:11 pm
urgencytobleed: (you're not happy but you're funny)

Because I'm convinced he knew it would make my year, Leighton Antelman released not one but two albums in very quick succession and, despite my loyalty to Lydia and my excitement over the fact that there was a new Lydia album at all, this is my clear favorite of the two. I think it's because I didn't really have any expectations for it. All I knew was that Antelman and Matt Malpass were teaming up to make some catchy, decidedly un-Lydia-like pop tunes and, as it turns out, My Blood Is Full of Airplanes, despite aptly fitting that description, is far more substantial and memorable than it might imply. The ten songs here are not only catchy pop tunes but damn good and damn catchy pop tunes, so slick and layered with electronics and effects that some may call them overproduced - but, to me, the indulgence works. Malpass' no holds barred production technique turns extremely simple songs like "Kill It" and "Picasso" into sonically intriguing ear candy, massive and instantly infectious. Antelman's incredibly distinctive vocal style is perfectly suited to these types of songs and, surprisingly, despite its familiarity, My Blood Is Full of Airplanes sounds nothing like his work with Lydia. Perhaps that is its most appealing quality: that Antelman and Malpass have committed themselves so fully to their mission of stepping outside of their comfort zone and creating something totally unexpected. "Satellites" and "Kinetic" are downright joyous, more cheerful and upbeat than anyone probably expected from them based on their past endeavors. The songs are unabashedly poppy yet, at the same time, unexpectedly refreshing. Despite their allegiance to a specific genre, they switch melodies and tempos so quickly and with so much ease that the transitions are seamless and natural and there are so many miniscule elements buried in the music that, instead of growing stale with repeated listens, they only grow better. Though these tracks and others like them are rather light and frothy, the album also holds a great amount of emotional depth. "Say It Like You Mean It" is one of the few mid-tempo songs and its catchiness is slightly more subtle; understated verses lead into an explosive chorus built on a simple sentiment that packs a surprising punch: "I don't mean it like I say it and you don't say it like you mean it." Near the end of the album, two songs especially stand out as much darker and more intense than the surrounding tracks. "She's on My Arm Now" is, compared to the rest of the album, quite heavy musically and has a more difficult, disjointed melody. Antelman's vocals here, which we've already witnessed transitioning through their many shades and facets, are a revelation, growing more and more passionate as the song progresses. Upping the intensity even more is the closing title track, which actually sounds quite out of place, but is phenomenal nonetheless. There is no moment on the album more sincere and affecting than when Antelman wails partway through, "Lately I've been thinking about the molecules I've been breathing/And now my skin's so soft it breaks with every breath I'm taking/And now my blood is full of airplanes and they're flying me away/From all these goddamn dirtbag neighborhoods, singing, 'Don't look back, don't you dare look back at me.'" It's a truly chill-inducing moment, just one more indication of how much magic Antelman and Malpass are capable of creating together. Whether or not the Cinema remains an ongoing project, My Blood Is Full of Airplanes is the perfect culmination of their talents and it will prove difficult, maybe even impossible, to ever top.

Nine.

Dec. 30th, 2011 01:53 pm
urgencytobleed: (Default)
Eisley - The Valley


It's been four years since Combinations and, after such a long wait, The Valley, on one hand, might be viewed as a disappointment for it doesn't really bring anything new to the table and, to some, may even be a step backward in quality. Gone are the dark, heavy songs that made Combinations so interesting ("Many Funerals," "Invasion," "A Sight to Behold") and the whimsical lyrics that have permeated Eisley's music in the past. Instead, The Valley finds the band sticking mostly to brighter, shinier sounds and lyrics about love lost and found (which makes sense, considering the amount of relationship drama the DuPree sisters have been through over the past several years). Though there isn't much here that can truly be considered new or innovative - most of the songs adhere to the traditional pop song format and never veer too far off course - The Valley is still a worthwhile listening experience. The melodies, though predictable, are undeniably catchy and the harmonies Stacy, Sherri and Chauntelle DuPree are capable of crafting are nothing short of stunning, as rich and vital to the music's effect as any other form of instrumentation. In fact, it is really the strong vocals that set Eisley apart from similar bands that aren't quite so memorable; Stacy and Sherri, who trade leads back and forth over the course of the album, both have the unique capability of selling absolutely anything they're singing about. Even if, as on The Valley, the lyrics aren't particularly mindblowing and often seem quite repetitive, the girls sing with such feeling and conviction that it hardly matters. Songs like "Smarter" and "Sad," on paper, are a bit cliched in their representations of anger and betrayal but Sherri's vocals are fierce and biting, allowing the songs to rise above their middling premises. Later in the album, "Better Love" and "Please" are rather generically constructed yet stand out for their energy and hard-hitting choruses. Meanwhile, Stacy's songs tend to be slightly more experimental than her sister's. The piano-based "Watch It Die" provides some of the whimsy that is missing from most of the rest of the album; light and playful, it begs immediately for the repeat button. "I Wish" finds both Stacy and Sherri switching off vocals during the verses, creating a discombobulated effect that is resolved in the layered, swelling chorus, one of the biggest on the album, sounding much larger than the two or three voices it is constructed upon. Closer "Ambulance," on the other hand, dials down the intensity but is no less riveting. Though it was released more than a year ago on the Fire Kite EP, it still sounds just as fresh and emotional now as it did then and serves as a perfectly understated yet poignant ending to the album. If you're looking for something that's never been done before, The Valley isn't the place to find it. However, if you're looking for something that's perhaps not very new but is injected with passion and energy by a band that has grown ever more confident in their abilities, then it's a very fulfilling album. Despite being relatively inconsequential, I have come back to many of the songs here far more than most other releases this year. Still, it'll be interesting to see how Eisley continues to develop; they already have an EP slated for release early next year and, considering how long this album had been sitting on the shelf prior to release, it's difficult to say, musically, exactly where the band might be now.

Ten.

Dec. 29th, 2011 10:05 pm
urgencytobleed: (Default)
Feist - Metals


To me, Metals is undoubtedly Leslie Feist's greatest accomplishment to date. I know a lot of people are lamenting the lack of lighthearted, cutesy-quirky pop songs but that's never been the aspect of Feist's music that has drawn me in - to be honest, I've always thought "1234" was one of The Reminder's weakest links and the songs that have stuck with me from that album are its darker, more atmospheric moments such as "The Park," "The Water" and "Intuition." Metals, then, is a perfect album for me because it's built from beginning to end on such sublime melancholy. Containing both some of the edgiest songs Feist has ever released and some of the subtlest, Metals is finally the album that, as a whole, is substantial enough to stand up to her spectacularly evocative vocals. In the past, I've mostly found her voice more memorable than the songs themselves but, here, the music is just as intriguing and complex as the many shades of Feist's vocal timbre. Even the poppier, peppier songs - "How Come You Never Go There," "The Circle Married the Line," "Bittersweet Melodies" - carry a certain amount of musical heft that transforms them into something more than delightful but ultimately frivolous concoctions. Still, the most intriguing tracks to be found on Metals are those that don't sound quite like anything Feist has ever done before or, rather, like more daring and large-scale versions of things she's tried to do before. Aching ballads like "Graveyard" and "Anti-Pioneer" aren't too dissimilar at their cores from much of Feist's past material but on Metals, in large part due to the addition of gorgeous string arrangements and strangely haunting group vocals, they soar and swell like never before and refrain from veering anywhere close to elevator music, a tendency which some of her past material has suffered from. Elsewhere, Feist travels even further outside her comfort zone, such as on the expansive opener "The Bad in Each Other," which is quirky but also remains very rooted, retaining an almost earthy, naturalistic quality despite its extremely layered and bombastic instrumentation. "Undiscovered First" follows along these same lines. It rises and falls effortlessly, building up from a restrained, foreboding opening to a sudden burst of energy in the chorus to a chaotic sea of voices and instrumentation at the end. Among such cacophony, however, Feist's pained delivery rings out clearly above all, and there is no more affecting moment on the entire album than when everything fades away and she wails nakedly, her voice echoing and distant as if in a cave, "Is this the way to live for me to be yours? Is this the way to live? Is it wrong to want more?" Overall, Metals is a phenomenal album, one that keeps giving the more you listen to it, which can't really be said for Feist's past efforts, at least in my personal experience. Though The Reminder was one of my favorite albums of the year when it was released in 2007, I've hardly listened to it since then. Metals, I feel, will keep revealing more to me far after the luster of newness has worn off.

Eleven.

Dec. 28th, 2011 07:18 pm
urgencytobleed: (sebastian <3 <3)
Dum Dum Girls - Only in Dreams


Dum Dum Girls' Only in Dreams is the equivalent in the world of independent music to escapist pop - fortunately, though, it has enough substance to place it squarely outside of guilty pleasure territory. The album also represents a huge musical leap for the band, who, until their He Gets Me High EP earlier this year, specialized in making simplistic, short and often times barely discernible lo-fi garage pop tunes that were more likely to hurt your ears than leave a genuine lasting impact. With Only in Dreams, frontwoman Dee Dee (also known as Kristen Gundred) and the other Dum Dum Girls have upped their game by a rather staggering amount, finally allowing the addictive, unabashedly poppy melodies that lurked far beneath the murky surface of their earlier material to step into the spotlight. The production is much better, giving all of the songs an energetic, sugary sheen reminiscent of girl group pop from decades past, the instrumentation is more layered and interesting, the songwriting, though often still adhering to the formula of "less is more," comes across as less sloppy and lackadaisical, and Gundred's vocals are more confident. All of this has probably prompted some longtime Dum Dum Girls fans to cry "sell out" but if that's true, I've never heard a band sell out and sound so damn good before. With their previous releases, Dum Dum Girls was only one of many in a long line of bands capitalizing on the current lo-fi craze in indie music but Only in Dreams has set them off on their own distinct path. It still may not offer up any true innovations and it's only lighthearted pop music at core but it's also the kind you can keep coming back to without fear of growing bored. The majority of the album is brimming with such gems, from the brief but glorious opener, "Always Looking," to "In My Head," "Heartbeat" and "Caught in One," three truly perfect songs that follow one after the other, in such quick succession that you'll somehow end up with all three stuck in your head at once because none stands out over the rest. On these songs, Gundred's voice is given more room to impress; though it still remains rather muted, the impassioned pre-choruses briefly bring to mind her old bluesy garage rock band, Grand Ole Party. They also lend a bit more attitude to the songs, counteracting the sweetness of the music and melodies so that it doesn't become too overbearing. Later in the album, the band branches out a bit: "Coming Down," a hazy six-minute Mazzy Star-ish ballad, is gorgeous and intense but sounds slightly out of place amongst this set; "Hold Your Hand," though progressing at a similar tempo, is more stripped-down and organic, allowing it to blend more easily with the rest of the album's atmosphere. As a whole, Only in Dreams in far from groundbreaking but it's such a truly infectious listen that its originality hardly matters - I haven't been able to stop playing several of these songs in my head since I first heard them and, sometimes, that's just as great an achievement as emotional depth or musical experimentation.

Twelve.

Dec. 27th, 2011 12:41 pm
urgencytobleed: (Default)
The Elected - Bury Me in My Rings


It's been five years since the release of Sun, Sun, Sun, the Elected's excellent sophomore album, and four years since Rilo Kiley's Under the Blacklight and I was beginning to think Blake Sennett had given up on music altogether - which would have been a shame because he's always been unduly overshadowed by Jenny Lewis when his talent certainly rivals if not exceeds hers. Lewis has unarguably got the stronger and more versatile vocal chops (though Sennett's now are certainly admirable, considering he often struggled to stay on-key in Rilo Kiley's earlier days) but, at this point, based on what they've done apart from each other so far, I'd have to call Sennett the better songwriter. A few years ago, at the peak of my Rilo Kiley obsession, I would have given the victory to Lewis but her music seems to have only grown more simplistic and forgettable while Sennett's remains rich and lasting. Though Bury Me in My Rings is probably the poppiest thing he's done so far apart from Under the Blacklight, it's poppy in an inspired way and not a limp, bloodless way like Lewis' most recent project, Jenny and Johnny. There are a couple missteps - I could do without the R&B-inspired "Babyface," for example - but, overall, the album is incredibly consistent and also much darker than its often light atmosphere leads one to believe. Though very catchy, at times almost bouncy, most of the songs here feature heavy subject matter, from failing relationships ("Look at Me Now") to death ("When I'm Gone") to domestic disillusionment ("Who Are You"). Adding fuel to the rumors of their volatile relationship, two of the album's most intriguing songs feature unflinchingly honest barbs that sound suspiciously like they might be directed at Lewis herself (similarly, Jenny and Johnny's "My Pet Snakes" sounded as if it could be meant for Sennett). "Go for the Throat" is an impeccably groovy track, straight out of another decade, and the lyrics are decidedly pointed: "Cooked up some big dreams, escaped a small life/You heard the kids scream every night/Now you're on late night, you're doing co-writes/And you just left the rest behind." In the second half of the album, "Have You Been Cheated" is even more wicked: "You put all your best words/In your worst song/And you can't bear to sing it/When they won't sing along... You may not know what you are but you know what you've done/And now you're back out on the road having fun." These lyrics, their richly-orchestrated instrumental accompaniment and Sennett's impassioned vocal delivery make it one of his best songs yet. Another standout is the six-minute ballad "This Will Be Worth It." Its length and gradual build-up bring to mind Sun, Sun, Sun's grand finale "Biggest Star," though it doesn't ever reach such intense heights. Despite its subtlety, it's a highly emotional track, particularly when Sennett croons with heartbreaking earnestness, "If we get the chance to do it all again/Feel free to do it, love, with another man." The fact that such self-deprecating charm sits side-by-side with aggressive confidence and both facets of Sennett's personality come across as equally genuine makes Bury Me in My Rings all the more intriguing - for a pop album, it's surprisingly complicated.

Profile

urgencytobleed: (Default)
Shannon

April 2012

S M T W T F S
1234567
891011121314
15161718192021
22232425262728
2930     

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jul. 20th, 2017 12:39 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios