What is that, you might ask? Well, its members, Nick Spear and Susan O’Dea, live in two completely different worlds.

She’s urban, while he’s rural.

She’s a Millennial, while he’s part of Gen X.

She’s a ‘kale chicken caesar’ kind of gal, while he’s a ‘last night’s cold pizza’ kind of guy.

However, when morphed together in the world of music, they are undeniably and effortlessly aligned. The opposing forces of their personality oddly work when one would think it wouldn’t, and the connection point for them has always been a distinct type of harmony.

Big Sky City Lights is an indie-folk duo whose dreamy, harmony-infused Americana sound is both vintage and of-the-moment. The project emerged remotely as a partnership between Susan, who’s based in New York City, and Nick, who’s based in Montana, creating unique covers of well-known songs during the 2020 lockdown.

This collaboration lead to the release of their debut full-length album, titled ‘Wake Me When We Get There’ in June 2021.

Their sound is also largely inspired by the landscapes of Montana, harnessing the dichotomy of its spaciousness and intimacy. The project’s lush harmonies and yearning melodies draw comparisons to the Civil Wars, Swell Season, the Head and the Heart, and Simon and Garfunkel. Their brand of stripped-down, cinematic folk landed them a feature on Good Morning America and garnered the attention of major music festivals, including Sisters Folk Festival and Under The Big Sky Festival on the bill with Jason Isbell, Tyler Childers, Shovels and Rope, Emmylou Harris and others.

This collaboration sounds extremely unexpected yet promising. Let’s explore their newest release, an EP titled ‘A Mountain To Go’

Upon listening to this album, I definitely hear the appeal of this act. I’m usually pretty stringent when it comes to music and musical variability- but there is one key factor that can absolve an act of this factor of needing to sound like Nandipha808 or John Cage. A deep, earnest musicality that is fairly easy for one to recognise and resonate with.

The combination of two of their voices is extremely striking and pleasing to my ears. It’s not a ‘cookie-cutter’ timbre behind their voices. If pictures speak a thousand words, sound speaks a billion more. Both of their voices ooze a sense of emotional depth, hardship, desire, delicateness as well as a sense of maturity. I’ve genuinely never heard such a stellar combination before in my life. Susan’s voice is delightfully strong, possessing not just a strong quality, but a lower tone and a richness with that tone. Her voice itself acts as the main instrument in most of these tracks on this release. The notes of Nick’s voice sincerely contrast her bold and deep tone quite well, intersecting with it like a wonderfully melodious flute. Together, they have the star quality and the musical quality of a cinematic soundtrack. This is quite rare to achieve with merely voice alone.

The instrumentation on this release is pretty varied, ranging from a country-rock soundscape to a strippe down acoustic soundscape that is extremely pleasing and soothing. The composition of all of these tracks are actually not necessarily that mindblowing, but I can say that they’re composed with utmost intent and passion, making it where you can hear each stem of the track potently and beautifully with the voices of the artists.

In terms of mastering, there are absolutely zero issues with this EP. All the instruments are panned, mastered and embellished quite well. This makes it where this album will make you feel like you’re ‘living’ through the experience of listening to this album, instead of just treating it like a detached experience.

There is also an evident theme of Americana and American-influenced instrumentation throughout this album, which would definitely appeal and make this album stand out even more if you have a personal soft spot for such genres.

Overall, a decent listen!

Score/Good: Big Sky City Lights harnesses the true prowess of two opposites, singing in unison and gracing the listener with wonderfully deep and rich harmonies. They go in the form of a cinematic ballad at times, all within the umbrella of Americana-influenced thematic genres. A decent listen that can make you feel nostalgic, too.

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Met Avra Banerjee, a seasoned classical Indian musician with over 15 years of training. He is also a composer and sarod player, specialising in what would be considered world music. He has collaborated with musicians from all over the world, with 35 singles to his name. He has a long list of prestigious nominations and awards, such as the: InterContinental Music Awards, Global Music Awards, Clef Music Award, LIT Music Awards, Indie Music Channel Awards, OneEarth Award Festival Award, X-Pose-Ing Awards, Josie Music Awards, World Entertainment Awards, Independent Music Awards and Global Indian Music Awards in categories such as World, Fusion, and Instrumental music.

He has also founded two bands: ‘Ragamorphism’ in India and ‘SwaraSynthesis’ in Australia. His role in these bands are primarily to perform, compose and arrange music. Within his own artistry and the umbrella of World music, his involvement in various genres include Indian classical, Fusion, Rock & Pop, Ghazals as well as Sufi music. Some of his works also include vocal pieces in languages such as Hindi, Urdu, English and Bengali. His proficiency also translates to authority, being part of The Recording Academy as a voting member. He also describes music as an art form rather than mere entertainment, which drives him to create compositions that are intricate and musically challenging, yet melodious and contemplative for the listener. He frequently experiments with multimodal melodies and unconventional rhythmic patterns in his work.

In this instance, we will review his latest body of work, titled ‘Chasing the Unknown’

Upon listening to this album, you will be greeted by a very cinematic flair when it comes to exploring the world of world music. Let’s put the production and the mastering aside- the timbre of the instruments and the microtonality as well as the scales will immediately pop up to you. Instantly, I can detect an instrument that almost sounds like a santoor, combined with influences of the hijaz scale. Each track speaks out like a landscape to a different world, accented by the initiative to let each ethnic instrument shine all while making a cohesive piece of music. Even though the influences throughout the album are quite direct, I can hear a lot of interlap with other musical cultures as well, such as the folk music of Eastern Europe- a coincidental aspect that speaks to the universality of music.

Within this album there are also undertones of rock through the syncopation of the percussion, as well as some melas (systems of Indian scales) to enhance the soundscape of the album. None of the songs are ‘stereotypically’ or sticking to merely one culture per se, but rather, it forces you to think and embrace what you’re hearing itself. You are one with the instrument, or instruments, rather. I can also hear undertones of jazz, ambient and blues being the connecting factor between blending the ethnic modes and scales with Western-scale backings, in order to let the compositions flow.

There are also some exciting nuances to this album, such as the use of interesting time signatures. For once, I have never heard anyone attempt to use the Waltz time signature with an Indian and Arabic influence before. The offbeat gives these songs a unique flair that I think needs to be dwelled upon, and expanded upon for inspiration. As someone who also composes within the same framework and mindset, I do also think this album is monumental to any listener and composer. Think of the relationship between ‘The Man Machine’ and electronic music to electronic music aficionados- I think this is the world music equivalent. The quality of this body of work is so high, I have to almost equate its musical impact to that of Deep Forest’s debut album.

As a musician also trained in classical Indian music, I think Avra does a wonderful job of extending Indian influenced motifs to these songs. If you are aware, there are so many melas to the point where I have to state that a) if you think your musical scale is separate from Indian compositional scales, they probably have one for it. I know for a fact that certain Indonesian and African scales also have a mela monologue, and b) the way these notes express themselves beyond the typical tuning and mode of major and minor give it an extra flair that even I have to use within my own precompositional intents. It may sound off to the Western ear, but it gives you an extra dimension for emotion- emotions that you think do not exist, but actually exist in the space of music itself. This album is FULL of surprises like that. The notes oscillate between sa,re,ga,ma,pa,dha,ni,sa and I can definitely hear it.

It almost makes me wonder if this album was composed with a film scape or a cinematic intent itself. All of the songs have a definite classical flair to it and a very, very potent edge. It is beyond the surface level of most music that comes out these days. One of my most favourite tracks in this album is ‘Triraga Confluence’. I assume from the title that three forms of ragas are used, but there is just something about the mode of notes used and the time signature that literally made my head tingle in the form of an ASMR reaction. I also love the attention to detail with the cultural influence not only apparent in the melodic modes of these songs, but also within the percussive elements. This track definitely has the strong sense of a tabla in it, and it is played extremely competently- all with the mysticism and suaveness of jazz, shall I say.

Overall, this album truly changed my mood and my outlook on music itself. It is a very astute and musically competent album. Even if you’re familiar with the nuances of ‘world’ music, this album is different. It doesn’t present itself as merely an album that contains ethnic eccentricities. You’re living through the little accents and quirks that makes each cultural scale different from another in terms of music. You’re living through a musical story that has been delicately and ironically, intensively crafted at the same time.

A wonderful body of work.

Score/Outstanding: Avra Banerjee absolutely warps my mind with his latest release, ‘Chasing The Unknown’ with a brilliant combination of various melas, ragas and scales. The album is chock full with ethnic motifs glued together with a keen and astute eye for composition itself. This album doesn’t even play itself out like an album, instead, it is almost like an experience or entering a different dimension that forces you to think and feel all at the same time. This piece of art should not be overlooked, at all.

[We rank singles, EPs, and albums on a scale of Poor, Mediocre, Good, Excellent, and Outstanding]

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I texted about half a dozen people, demanding they answer me immediately because I had something incredible to tell them about. But of course, it was already well past 1 a.m., and no one answered. But…I had found it. I had found the album! The next album to awaken something new in music, the same way a first kiss reawakens the soul. I was still in a furor when I went to bed, only just starting to process it all. I knew damn well I had heard something, but more importantly I had felt something.

So what the hell is this supernatural record I’m talking about? The music which managed to drive me entirely up the wall in the best way possible? Diamond Jubilee is the name of the project. And man, I’ll tell ya, I get my yuk’s just from looking at the cover for this album: an old postcard of a factory in rural Canada, with Cindy Lee herself scribbled over it, cigarette dangling between her fingers.

And just who is this Cindy Lee character I’m talking about? Well, she’s a gal with a bob-ish haircut and cherry red lip gloss, she’s got a penchant for high heel boots that go up to the knees. She likes to get on stages in dim clubs and cozy up to the microphone while she sings about the Texas moon or whatever, but no one really cares what she’s singing about, because everyone’s so mesmerized by just the sounds alone that are coming from the stage, sounds that might as well be from another world as far as they’re concerned. But hold your horses just a minute, we’ll get to the music soon. I want you to have all the context you need before we do, because this album deserves it.

Underneath the drag persona of Cindy Lee is the real persona of Patrick Flegel, the former lead of Women, that (sorta) indie rock band from Canada that broke up onstage at a concert in 2010. You’ve gotta be a real snob to know this band. But don’t worry if you are, you’re always in good hands with me. However, you don’t need to be as much as a snob to know about their new hypnagogic drag project, Cindy Lee, despite the fact that Flegel seemed to set up extra obstacles for themself with the drop of this new album.

Dig this: Flegel released this album with no promotional campaign, and the only way to listen is either a two hour long YouTube video with no track breaks, or a WAV file from a Geosite. No Spotify, no iTunes, no nothing (“THE CEO OF SPOTIFY IS A THIEF AND A WAR PIG,” reads a disclaimer on the Geosite. “HE STOLE 100 MILLION EURO FROM ROCK AND ROLLERS AND USED THE MONEY TO INVEST INTO ‘HELSING.’ ‘HELSING’ IS A MILITARY ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE INNOVATOR.”). 

Yes, you’ll have to seek this one out on your own. And when you do get to that Geosite or YouTube video, and you take a look at the length, your jaw will drop. 2 hours and 2 minutes. In this day and age? Who’ll listen to a two hour long album that has no catchy singles, radio play, social media campaigns, or even physical copies?

A lot of people, it turns out. Maybe Flegel knew it, maybe they didn’t, but the album they created here is such a tour de force, such an achievement in music that it doesn’t need any sort of introduction. In fact, if you had any sense at all, you’d stop reading now and listen to it all, start to finish. But if you’ll listen a while longer, I’ll talk a while longer.

For a better understanding of where I come from with all this, I’d like to recount a disagreement I had with a vinyl store clerk a month or two ago. I was buying a nice pressing of Led Zeppelin’s fourth album, the one with “Stairway to Heaven” on it, finally breaking down and spending an absurd amount of money for a new copy. It’s not hard to find Led Zeppelin II or III used at any vinyl store worth your time, but no one sells their copy of Led Zeppelin IV. Not because it’s the best Zeppelin album, but because it’s a great coffee table album…and there’s nothing totally wrong with that. What’s wrong is when you start to think those coffee table records are the only good ones left.

The kid behind the counter was at least a year or two older than me, but seemed infinitely more sophisticated, as all people on that side of the counter used to seem to me. But then halfway through our conversation about the album, he fixed his mouth to say one of the most foolish things anyone who claims to be into music can say: “They don’t make music like this anymore.”

“How do you mean?” I ask.

He tapped the vinyl cover with his two fingers. “Rock ’n’ roll is dead,” he said.

What an idiot! I thought it, but I didn’t say it. I couldn’t blame the guy too much. I too used to cynically speculate on the death of rock as we knew it. It was true…all the best music of the new generation was the R&B, the hip-hop, the rap, some of the pop, even. And while that isn’t false, I’ll tell you what first made me start to believe again in rock ’n’ roll, just on a smaller scale: King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard.

Late one night, similar to the one in which I first heard this album, I put on two of King Gizz’s albums: I’m In Your Mind Fuzz and Murder of the Universe. Of course, it wasn’t the same as Zeppelin, or the Stones, or The Who, because making something like that would no longer be rock ’n’ roll. Because yes, while there are some basic qualifiers for the rock genre, the rock ’n’ roll spirit is a different thing entirely.

Real rock ’n’ roll isn’t about the break neck guitar solos or sexy lyrics, and it never was. It’s about taking the rulebook for normal music and taking out the pages you want before burning the rest. It’s about creating something that shocks and awes and is new, and that’s what King Gizz did with the things they put out in the mid-2010s.

I told the clerk that nothing really dies, it just comes back in a new form. I told him I thought we were waiting for some kind of rock renaissance, that—mark my words—there would be something soon to blow the roof off everything. But I’ll admit, I doubted it slightly even as I said it. I had been starved for quite a while for some new brain-warping noises that weren’t from (just) a music production software.

PART TWO: DAYDREAM OR FEVER?

And so that brings us back to the fateful Friday when just before midnight I put on a new album, thinking I was only gonna listen to a few songs. After all, the thing was two hours, and I’d never heard of this Cindy person. But all it took was to sit down and listen to the first two minutes of the title track, and I realized I couldn’t put the thing down until I was over. And I’ll tell you why. If you listen closely, you’ll hear something odd only six seconds into the album as a beachy guitar riff fades in: a mistake! One of the guitar strings is a little buzzy.

There are mistakes and blemishes like this throughout the entire project. But it doesn’t make it worse. In fact, it makes it better. If I can use a painting metaphor, Bob Ross called these similar mishaps in his paintings “happy little accidents.” And that’s exactly what we have here with these offbeat piano switches, unsteady drum lines, and buzzy guitar strings…happy little accidents. They don’t appear too often, but they appear often enough to make the record human. Because the best music is human, and flawed, and compassionate, but most of all it’s human.

But hell, we’re only six seconds into the record and I’m already laying this all on you like some kind of schizophrenic (which I might as well be for this stuff). Let’s return to where we started: the guitar riff. If you’ve listened to enough of the Beach Boys, it may remind you of some of Brian Wilson’s licks. There are playful variations in the initial seconds of the solo guitar as echoing snaps fade in.

Combining healthy reverb on the instruments, distorted wordless vocals, and distant percussion on the next minute of the track, the album takes on a cautiously surreal feeling, like the moment of hesitation before slipping into a daydream. It builds and builds and builds, the drums becoming faster and faster before cutting off when in a single, cleansing instant all the hesitance washes away with the singing of the album’s first lyrics: “In the diamond’s eye / Shining down on me / A single memory / And it’s of you / Of you.” The voice is eerie, but more so beautiful, and ties everything together to create one of the record’s greatest accomplishments: the dreamy quality of the sound. Gosh, how can I describe it accurately? It’s a memory of a memory of a memory. It sounds like everything you’ve ever heard on the radio condensed into two hours, but at the same time it sounds like nothing else. Or maybe just nothing you’ve ever heard conscious.

I could spend hours listing all the genres and influences here, and several more listing the ways that Flegel subverts and changes these genres. The largest influences to look to are girl groups, psych rockers, ‘70s rock radio, new wave bands, and the lofi wizards that ruled a small corner of the ‘90s. Flegel carefully assembles this sound palette through the first ten tracks.

Following the mellow opener is the first danceable song here, or at the very least a good head-nodder: “Glitz.” Thundering synths and heavy drums roll through the track, before it suddenly drops off around minute three, going from a total jive to a single echoing acoustic guitar playing the same foreboding riff over and over before closing off, not even returning to any sort of chorus. 

“Baby Blue” is a murky doowop waltz, with some of the catchier vocals on the first disc. “Baby, baby, baby blue / Everybody wants a piece of you” has stayed with me, stuck in my head like a strange mantra, and I’m not sure why. Another stellar track is “All I Want is You,” with Flegel showing off their eerier vocals accompanied by a sunny guitar, which will come back later on. In fact, a lot will come back later on. Many times throughout the album, you’ll hear chord progressions, or rhythms, or even lyrics that have appeared previously during the two hour record. And strangely enough, sometimes you’ll hear something you swear you’ve heard before, when really you haven’t. What a trip!

“Le Machiniste Fantôme” is essentially an interlude, but is still one of my favorite tracks on the album. It begins with faint, wordless singing as a flute whines in the background, before the track profoundly devolves into some of the most impactful guitar sounds I have ever experienced, the kind that you feel in your chest. So nostalgic, so familiar, so—

Ah, hell, I’ve heard this before, haven’t I? The answer is yes, dear reader. In fact, it was on this very record. Or was it? This thing is turning into a real mindfuck, and by the time the first disc finishes and the second opens with “Stone Faces,” a morbidly funky number about “Stone faces staring back at me / They saw me on the cover of a magazine / And now these people want a piece of me,” you’ll start to feel a slight dread set in. Following it is “Gayblevision,” the most explicitly new wave track on the record, and one of the most uplifting. The song sounds like an alternate take of some old Talking Heads demo, drenched in the opiate-induced mystique of Lou Reed and The Velvet Underground.

There’s not a bad song on either side of the record, but for the sake of time, let’s skip forward, closer to the end. “What’s it Going To Take,” feels like the beginning of the end for the record, a quiet track that builds into a section of noise but never really climaxes, only fades off into the next song, “Wild Rose,” which brings back another funky guitar tune, and is the last somewhat optimistic track  on the album.

From here, everything slowly slides into oblivion, and a light begins to form at the end of the tunnel. Maybe you’re ready for it to end, maybe you’re not. But that light keeps coming closer as the seconds go by. Might as well accept it now, and try and savor whatever is left. You’ll never hear this album for the first time again.

The final lyrics are sung on the second to last track, “Crime of Passion.”  I’ve heard this final line at least twelve times in the last week, and I still can’t quite make it all out. It goes something like: “You don’t have to be a [?] / To be wrong / To be wrong.” I can’t tell you what it means exactly, but it still manages to give me goosebumps more often than not.

The final song is a five minute instrumental, “Heaven 24/7.” Cascading strings, droning violins, sparkly percussion…It’s very possible that to acquire the sounds on this track, Pat Flegel assembled some sort of radio that really could transmit a signal to heaven, and then did the best they could to translate it into something we can only vaguely understand.

When the album ends, there is no fade out. The music simply cuts off mid violin note. It’s the musical equivalent to a gunshot to the head—your life (the music!) ends suddenly without any explanation. It’s one final shock to the nervous system, something that creates a sudden void, ripping all the beauty of the music away from you in an instant. 

And it’s over.

PART THREE: MINOR SELF-INDULGENCE

I appreciate you sticking around so long. As I said, you’re always in good hands with me, and I hope I’m in good hands with you. If we’re in agreement, I’ll go on a little longer, and I’ll tell you where this album fits into music as it stands now. This may very well be the greatest thing to come out in a decade, and if we’re talking about just rock, it may be the best thing since Y2K.

I’m sure I’ll think of twenty more groups after I sell this review, but for now I’ll name a few for you: Arcade Fire, Swans, King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard, Arctic Monkeys, Radiohead, and The Strokes. These are the (popular) bands that I believe helped keep rock ’n’ roll alive from the Bush years all the way through the pandemic.

And some of them come very close, but none of them seem to quite break through the same glass ceiling musically, with the same level of force and upward mobility as this singular album. This is the last Cindy Lee project, but it’s worth just as much as an entire career (But don’t let that stop you from listening to the rest of Cindy Lee’s albums). This album is truly the achievement of a lifetime, something that is truly in the most genuine way moral, however you apply the term to something so abstract.

I’ve caught mild flack for my relentless praise for the album, one of my friends saying, “You’ve got to be an idiot to think this is even the best thing to come out in even five years.” Man! I shoulda slugged him right then and there for calling me something like that while simultaneously trashing something of such greatness…

But really, it’s all my opinion. I mean really, where does an 18-year-old who can barely play a guitar solo get off calling anything good or bad with such confidence? Who calls vinyl clerks “idiots” and talks about slugging his friends over something as trivial as an album? You have to understand, the reason I get so heated here is because I believe art to be one of the only clean currencies left in this dirty social economy, and I believe this is art in its purest form. There is nothing more special than what you and I can share that we enjoy.

I don’t speak about this album the way I do because I believe that there is an objective truth to it. I speak the way I do because more than anything I want you to feel the same thing I did when I listened, I want you to come to the same epiphanies I did, even if there’s only a slight possibility our minds line up enough to spark that same effect. Take the chance, put on the album. It could change your life, kiddo.

Rating/Outstanding: One of the greatest albums ever made, calling it now.

[We rank singles, EPs, and albums on a scale of Poor, Mediocre, Good, Excellent, and Outstanding]

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Today’s piece of art revolves around someone who has taken the baton from the traditions I have mentioned, named Didier Recloux. Didier Recloux is a Belgian-born composer based in London, who comes from a line of music enthusiasts who fostered his passion for music when he was young. He then went on to enroll at his local music academy at the age of six to study music in a multifaceted fashion and went on to study counterpoint, music for audiovisual production at Berklee online, orchestration in New York with Steven Scott Smalley as well as production with IMW London. Even now, he doesn’t stop at the pursuit of learning, still studying with pianist, music teacher, and author Jonathan Walker.

He also started off his musical journey foraging into a multitude of various genres- pop, rock, heavy metal, prog rock, electronic as well as classical and film music. He notes Maurice Jarre and Ennio Morricone as his quintessential influences in shaping his musical sensibilities. Due to his upbringing in Belgium and the tapestry of communities that live there, he was also exposed to and influenced by foreign music as well. Didier Recloux, in his influences, story as well as repertoire, is surely non-conventional and brilliant.

Didier’s music emphasises melodies, which he describes as “portable”, that one can carry away from a film, bringing back the feelings experienced while watching the movie. He aspires to touch and move people, the way that he has been moved by the music he loves. 

Even in the realm of stories, it takes a certain type of person to choose a certain type of story. Most people stick with the cliched and played-out archetype of ideologies, manifestos, or whichever fits the likeness of such. Stories that evoke an interesting interplay between the arcane and the novel seem to always push through this notion. In this particular instance, today’s album review takes on the story of ‘Monsieur Linh and his Child’.

‘Monsieur Linh and his Child’ is a novel characterising the journey and fate of a man, named Monsieur Linh, and his child- no one truly knows who the child is, with it oscillating towards being his child, or his grandchild, throughout the tone of the story. The story is ineffable, and very surreptitious at times. Following the stylistic theme of the writer and the composer of this album, I will let the story envelop and give out clues as well as details about the context of the topic as the album progresses.

Stories rarely chime unless a gentle breeze pushes them to. Let me, in this context, be the gentle breeze.

Access to the album via this link https://didierrecloux.com/monsieur-linh-and-his-child

Leaving it all Behind/Mr. Linh/Sang Diû [Track 1]

The first part of the track starts off sombre, and intense, as well as deep. It then goes into a triumphant but melancholic tirade of horns, melodically supporting the track with all the initial emotional tone it requires. The supporting drums are heavy-hitting, and fit the undertones of intensity as well as sombreness, with the addition of a pellet-based xylophone giving the song the ‘question’ and dilemma of… Mr. Linh leaving his hometown behind. In the story, Mr. Linh is implied to be a Vietnamese man who has to flee his home country due to the catastrophe of war. He only clutches his suitcase, and his baby grand-daughter, described as lighter than the suitcase itself. The melodies in this song are grand, as well as contemplatively profound. They bear a lot of similarity to the triumphant yet sombre tone of many soundtracks supplementing Chinese period films and dramas, sonically transmitting the idea of “righteous warfare” (yibing 義兵).

The track then goes into a drawn-out, contemplative piano solo in the middle, with accented pentatonic flutes describing the ethnomusical tone of Mr Linh’s origin. Following the surreptitious theme of righteous warfare, the track almost goes back in a triumphant gaze towards the future, the new. In its forward-sounding trance, it sounds fascinatingly forward with solitude weaved into the soundscape due to the melange of strings. It is extremely emotionally intense.

The third part of the track, possibly a homage to Sang Diû, sounds extremely tender and innocent with the isolate plucking of strings in the beginning, with an aged quality to it given by the noise in the background. It has notes of a bell, usually attributed to youth, and what I presume to be either a clarinet or an oboe taking the main part of the melody. Since Sang Diû is implied to be Mr. Linh’s baby grand-daughter, or a child, infantile either way, the track presents an emotional landscape that is mixed with that of innocence but also respite and comfort in innocence- just as Mr. Linh’s relation is to this character. It twinkles, and tugs at your senses, following the same tone of the previous half of the track: solitude as well as possibility. The notes chosen towards the end mimic a sense of mystery, drawn out with the tone of the sea: where Mr. Linh sails, far away from his land.

A New Town [Track 2]

Mr. Linh arrives at a completely new, far-away land. The track starts off with sprinkles of a twinkled sound, supplemented by the graveness of the deep strings in the background. The main melody then takes over, with the use of a call-and-response between the flute, violin and airy choral vocals in the background. The melody itself oscillates between a longing and a sense of unfamiliarity. The oboe then interjects, extending the sense of unfamiliarity and disillusionment, with a very apt sprinkle of pentatonic notes in the middle, perhaps to represent Mr. Linh’s state of mind as he faces this new land, while still capturing the essence of his memory. It sounds very vulnerable, yet rich, just as his state of mind.

The Loss of a Family [Track 3]

In the story, it is stated that ‘all those who know his name are dead’. It is implied that his closest family members are all killed, in the ongoing war that ravaged his homeland and destroyed his village. The track deals with the sense of loss and devastation that this encompasses, for all that you cherish to simply perish. The track starts off almost in an ambient manner, with overtones that turn the sadness into an all-encompassing voyage of all stages of grief at once. The melody enters with definite pentatonic references, just as the rest of the tracks, with compositional choices that evoke the sense of despair. The deep guzheng-esque bass evokes the sense of grief that is distant, yet so close, with the light overtones of sound possibly depicting the innocence of the family that gets killed. The track then descends into a low piano tone, with notes of mental chaos and anguish, depicting deviance as well as terror. It poses much similarity to themed compositions of war documentaries due to the short bursts of strings, – which supplements the notion that his family perishes due to war. I absolutely love the emotional landscape and evolution of this track, as the cyclic strings get complemented with strong horns when the song reaches a crescendo and an apex. It then descends into a contemplative, yet mentally taxing note of the peak and trough of experiencing death itself, with the choral vocals and the oboe.

First Walk [Track 4]

In the next reiteration of the story, Mr. Linh embarks upon taking his first forage into the previously acknowledged ‘new land’ that he is thrust upon. Dark strings layered in an ambient fashion paint the tone of the piece as well as build a steadfast feel of sorrow that is hard to ignore. What then, seems to be a trumpet, plays a motif that evokes the feel of bravery encapsulated with a stride forward, as if it was the first step one can take. An auditory motif alluding to the significance of what it means to finally take charge. Strings emerge after this motif, building on the tone of ambience. Subversive notes emerge from the woodwinds afterwards, with the tone of a question or even a whimsical re-evulation of what one is doing. While this aspect of the song develops, an extra motif blossoms and shines, possibly alluding to the new possibilities that await as his first step emerges into steps, a first journey. The instrumentation with the flute afterwards is dynamic in its tone as well as what it conveys, a sort of melancholic poetry mixed with question. The drums hasten, creating a groove for the track, which is contrasted with the continuous crescendo of the bold and dramatic sounds in the background (possibly a more significant string component.) This use of juxtaposition is extremely innovative as it gives the song more depth and contemplation than it already does. It then reinvents itself as a track, with an earnest flute taking the lead- almost as if it were to honestly convey ups and downs while still being fairly immersive. It even adds aspects of free-form jazz to form a metaphorical crux. The song then descends into what I’d describe as ‘sombre acknowledgement’ of the action and what lies beyond. This composition is highly thought-provoking and utilises many aspects of various instrumentation to paint a picture.

Meeting Mr. Bark [Track 5]

Meeting Mr. Bark starts off with a highly imperative tone, softened with the instrumentation and the plucked strings in the background. It grabs you, with an extra tone of seriousness that is not necessarily displayed in the other tracks. This is the point at which presumably, Monsieur Linh meets Mr. Bark in the midst of his walk. The track portrays a sort of subversiveness as well as caution upon encroaching an entity that is new- yet contrasted with the desire to open up, as well as be fragile. The soft sprinkles in the sound create the feel of vulnerability while what I assume to be an alto saxophone takes up the main melodic part of the track. The tone of the alto saxophone sounds almost quirky in a way, while also portraying the sentiment of feelings oscillating up and down while the piano in staccato in the background gives off the feel of anticipation as well as anxiety, presumably as Monsieur Linh communicates with this entity and tells his story without a single word, leaving more for emotional interpretation just as the track implies. It then leads up to what sounds like a glorious fanfare, with more pentatonic elements and melancholy wrapped up in the concept of righteous warfare and the sentiment of ‘packing ones trauma’ with survivorhood being the crux, yet having survivor’s guilt. The choice of notes throughout the track gives off an uneasy yet directive feel, which is very apt for the concept itself.

Thinking of Home/Sang Diû Theme [Track 6]

This particular track transitions to a deeper ambience in its background tone. As the duration of the album proceeds and unravels, the missing puzzle pieces seem to take the listener through a travelling journey to unwrap what exactly is going on. The increasing depth of each track mirrors that exact intent.

A tender piano accompanied by a flute marks the melodic start of the track, which then gets passed on to another woodwind instrument- I assume it is closer to a clarinet but not exactly a saxophone. It comes out in a drawn-out ‘snake’-like fashion, with sparks of twinkling sounds as well as a timpani in crescendo, giving a dramatic introduction to the rest of the track.

In terms of melodic progression, this track amps up the pentatonic scale as well as reference to East Asian music- specifically, Chinese classical music. I have stated before, that the ethnocultural composition of Vietnam is primarily of Chinese descent, and that shows in their musical traditions as opposed to other Southeast Asian nations that have other scales, and ethnomusical traditions dominating their soundscape. As a result, this track definitely does reflect ‘Sang Diû‘ as a cultural totem, as well as a totem of his past, present as well as future- the entity speaks for itself, just as it has been represented through sound in this song.

As someone who extremely favours pentatonic music, the melodic progression of this song is extremely poignant. It develops itself with much glory, as well as fanfare. The intermittent notes of a chime give it more oomph and is definitely the song out of this album thus far that gives me goosebumps. It is triumphant and draws out very stylistically. The song then reverts to the same type of intentionally ‘uneasy’ and subversive tone that the previous track provides, with more of a weariness to it.

Flashback to Youth/Mr. Linh’s Wife [Track 7]

The next progression to this album starts off in a very inviting as well as dynamic tone, as it invites the listener to what is presumably Monsieur Linh’s reconstruction and memory of his life, going back to before the war occurred. It is very sparkly and the jazz-like tone of the syncopation of the cymbals gives this track a sort of feel that reminds me of ‘mind games’ itself. As if the recollection of his memories was his relief, but also a mental maze to go through- how does one look at the past with such clarity after blood has metaphorically stained it? The choice of notes throughout the initial sequence goes in a circular motion, as if it was intentionally done to evoke the feel of never-ending thoughts. The choice of instruments is also tantamount, as the tone of the xylophone (although it sounds more to a marimba) and the woodwind instrument gives it a juxtaposition between the innocence of youth as well as the toil of memories of the past. The use of violins as well draws upon the feel of toil even more, giving it a scope of sadness.

The composition then enters a minimalist sequence in which it retains the instruments that provide the melodic tone of sadness and toil, paired with a recurring drum kick in the background. The recurring kick gives it the feel of anxiety and a heart beat, as the sounds of innocence draw out. Very, very true to its title and description.

The Gift [Track 8]

In the midst of the mystery of Sang Diû itself, Mr. Bark, his newfound friend, gifts her a new dress to accompany Monsieur Linh on his walks. Even though it seems like a simple act, the story itself is poised with many different undertones, implications as well as interpretations- but Mr. Bark, in his act, shows his sympathy and understanding with this mere action.

The track starts off very tenderly, with a distinct string in the background almost giving it a sparkled ‘screech’ to the rest of the song. The harp in this provides the song contemplation, as well as the choice of notes of the piano. Once again, the woodwind instrument is the main star of the melody. The piano almost gives the song the feel of oscillating feelings through its constant peaks and troughs, as if the emotions could be transmitted without any extra effort.

The same tone of oscillating questions resonate throughout the rest of the track, with the strings giving the track more of an euphoric yet holistic feel. Listening to this track makes it feel like you are going through a field with many turns but no ends, but without any hostility. Just as Monsieur Linh goes through the journey of life with no real clear conscience, but Mr. Bark’s actions and intent in passing this gift provides a sort of relief- he has someone who understands, who cares about his state of mind and why Sang Diû is important to him. It definitely ends with a poignant note.

Mr. Bark Remembers [Track 9]

Sorrow and a different form of survivor’s guilt marks the start of this track. This time, the survivor is not the one affected by the circumstances, but instead, the creator of said circumstances. As the story unfolds, it is known that Mr. Bark was part of the efforts in Monsieur Linh’s circumstances. He somehow, had a hand in the war that ravaged Monsieur Linh’s village, being partly responsible for why he is in the state that he is in now. The track starts off with a melancholic sequence of strings, but it also sounds like an opener to the rest of the story. The piano and woodwind then paints the tone of regret, and then leads to a melodic sequence that sounds like glory in vain. It then switches up completely, to a much more grave and serious tone, illuminated by the switch in sequence through the strings and the horn section. It is very hard-hitting, possibly to illustrate Mr. Bark’s role in the war itself- the sound of the snare is very characteristic of military marching bands, and the style of cymbals chosen is also reminiscent of Chinese war music. The horns also give it an extra flair. The song then goes back to the same tone of the first segment, as if it was intentionally in A-B-A format, to represent the regret that haunts Mr. Bark: here he is, interacting with and seeing the result of his actions, and having to come to terms with it. He can appease the result of his actions as much as he wants, but the weight of his actions already wears him down.

A New Home [Track 10]

Monsieur Linh, in the story, eventually gets shuffled between various different forms of housing and entities to foster him somewhere, as an elderly refugee. However, since he is a refugee, he gets trapped within refugee centres, where he is mistreated. This then leads to an extremely unfavourable outcome, as it worsens the situation for Monsieur Linh mentally- he already has the scars and wounds from his past, and now he has to open new ones with maltreatment.

The song starts with the tone of confusion and contemplation from the harp, with the strings giving it a subversive emotionality and the rest of the instrumentation evoking a sort of innocence akin to helplessness, just as Monsieur Linh is while being shuffled through these institutions.

This track definitely has more of a ‘concert band’ feel to it compared to a baseline orchestral feel, with also a more whimsical approach akin to instrumental Disney compositions. It evokes the feel of a journey through the various string components, but one that definitely has not ended. It oscillates between peaks and lows of accomplishment as well as struggle, as Monsieur Linh has acquired a place to stay at, but his experiences are not what he expected.

The track then descends into a somewhat airy, and delectably spooky sequence that is primarily dictated with airy choral vocals. The way the tone of the track changes and transforms is pretty seamless and genius, displayed in all of the other compositions as well. The pseudo-otherworldiness of the flute is contrasted with the airy choral vocals, with conniving strings giving it more of the feel of regret and misfortune. The melodic component of misfortune is then stretched out with a woodwind instrument, with pizzicatos from the strings and spaced out notes from the piano then descending into a sequence reminiscent of ‘the unknown’.

A very, very stylistically dynamic track.

Escape/Finding Mr. Bark [Track 11]

After being confined to the refugee home, Monsieur Linh takes on a journey to abscond from the home and set out on a journey to find Mr. Bark, his secondary refuge in the midst of all of this chaos and somewhat of a lifeline.

The track begins with the feel of solitude and contemplative helplessness. The consistent motifs of sorrow and pentatonic music reignite in this track, but with a more striking approach. It is less ‘whole’, but in this minimalism, it gives the scenario more of a serious depth to it. It is also filled with audio motifs of the unknown, and mystery, sustained by the strings, woodwind and the dissipatory tone of the piano itself. The constant string in the background adds tension, as motivic variation develops in the rest of the track.

The flute wraps the track up as if it were a winding plant amid a forest. It supports the track in such a miniscule yet profound way. It is earnest, yet developing- just as the situation of the story at this point. The jazz-like groove of the cymbals, albeit subtle, also add a tone of suspense. The horns afterwards give the song a resolution that is like no other, consistent and very dominant.

I like the use of suspense and tension through the tempo changes and the use of the notes in the background, and the sequence of the horns mimic Monsieur Linh’s possible unwavering will and desire to locate Mr. Bark amid his escape. It then erupts into a melodic apex, which somehow feels like an accomplishment through the use of the horns.

In the finishing segment of this track, even though it is instrumentation, the dominant melodic notes done from the woodwind which I presume to be a saxophone at this point, almost sounds as if it is having a conversation- and the pianos evoke the feel of relief and familiarity…. and then, an abrupt hit occurs. The stylistic fashion of subito crescendo, it then changes the journey of the composition. It is the auditory version of a ‘halt’, apt for the next segment of this whole album.

This composition is extremely tender and takes you through the emotional apex of the story. It is very, very well done as it oscillates between the feelings and the emotional tension of the story.

Sang Diû/Reveal [Track 12]

This particular composition begins by wrapping you up in a solitary yet profound mix of low strings, distant woodwinds, and the use of slight noise. It takes you through the metaphorical waves, through the strings, and marks the emotional tone with the melody of the woodwind- it is sombre, it is gut-wrenching. It eats at you and takes you in the constant swim of emotion throughout the album.

Twinkling sounds oscillate within a soundscape of sorrow-filled violins, and the horns in the background give this song the triumphant reveal it requires.

At the end of the day, in subtle cues and context, it is then revealed that Sang Diû is not a human, it is not a child. It is a doll that Monsieur Linh had found next to his deceased kin, as the last artifact linked to their existence.

The track then develops itself in a very whimsical and dynamic manner, going through a ‘bouncy’ melodic sequence, taking you out of the extreme depth of sorrow in the first part of the track. Something as dark as the origin of Sang Diu, holds as much innocence as it does trauma.

It then erupts completely, with the realisation of what Sang Diû actually is, through the fanfare of horns and the timpani. It is regal, it is bold, and it is open in its expression. The similar pentatonic motif throughout the album returns, almost as if it were the last vestiges of the novelty of the story, and twinkles out. Hopes and dreams, once began, once shattered, once reignited, all over again.

This album in its entire conception was extremely poignant and interesting to begin with. I had not heard of the story before this album, but I am ardent in thinking that musical motifs are more effective than simply reading words. Logocentrism has its limits. Sound can be connected to many things- visualisation, and simply, communication. This album truly, and competently communicated the story to me. It was exactly as if somebody narrated the story to me, but without words. I could feel each scene and every subtle intent.

In terms of instrumentation, it is simply profound. The artist makes good use of most concepts of dynamics as well as instrumentation when it comes to classical composition to express the intent of the album in itself. The instruments match every emotional motif, it is very aptly mastered, it has plenty of musical variability with just enough reconstitution (certain reoccurring melodies) to ground the listener back to where the intent of the composition was, without being predictable. The artist surely has an eye or shall I say, ear, for thematic composition.

I truly felt like I learned a lot, and grew a lot while listening to this album. As I quote in my earlier paragraph,

‘Didier’s music emphasises melodies, which he describes as “portable”, that one can carry away from a film, bringing back the feelings experienced while watching the movie. His aspiration is to touch and move people, the way that he has been moved by the music he loves.’

and this is one of the most purest descriptions of Didier’s artistry. It is simply true. The concept of portable melodies in this entire album did touch and move me- dare I say, it evoked emotions and mechanisms more than that.

All in all, this was an extremely brilliant piece of art and I wish Didier all his best and to never stop his quest of continuous learning when it comes to music, as it reflects extremely well on the quality of work that he puts out and his understanding of music as a mechanism to transport ideas. Bravo.

Rating/Outstanding – ‘Monsieur Linh and His Child’ is one of the most profound pieces of work I have ever listened to, especially for pieces that are inspired by stories and other forms of art. It is an album that definitely effectively communicates every iota of the story, and the feeling to wonderfully crafted music. It is a thought-provoking and highly competent album.

[We rank singles, EPs, and albums on a scale of Poor, Mediocre, Good, Excellent, and Outstanding]

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Citations for this review:

https://muse.jhu.edu/article/747582

http://booksandbikes.co.uk/book-reviews/monsieur-linh-and-his-child-la-petite-fille-de-monsieur-linh-by-philippe-claudel/

https://medium.com/urmindace-stories/monsieur-linh-and-his-child-723fd6623d61

Philippe Claudel – La Petite Fille de Monsieur Linh

The post Didier Recloux – Monsieur Linh and His Child (Album Review) appeared first on Music Review World.

Prior to the release of his new album ESTRELLA, I reflected on back on Mora’s career and attempted to answer some lingering questions. I came to the conclusion that while Mora does have good qualities that are underappreciated, there isn’t much that separates him from most reggaeton artists. In fact, I will go as far as to say that the reason I initially liked him was based on the virtue that he doesn’t suck amidst the dumpster fire that is the modern Latin scene.

And that’s it. He’s good, but just good…until now.

ESTRELLA opens up with “MEDIA LUNA”, a track with great production that started well with a nice instrumental. I would say that while this album doesn’t contain the best production out of Mora’s discography, it contains his most unique. Songs like “REINA” and “UN DESEO” are chill and provide a nice atmosphere. “AYER Y HOY”, the last track, included some brass that fits nicely with the song, though it lasted a little longer than it should’ve.

There were also instances of good performances from Mora, most especially in “DONDE SE APRENDE A QUERER”, arguably the best song on the album. “REINA” had Mora and Saiko spitting out great flows, and “POLVORA” had some good rhymes and wordplay from Mora, though Yandel had some pretty cringe-worthy bars. “EL CHACAL” might sound a bit too much like an Anuel song, but I would still consider it a highlight.

While all of these features and more are things I appreciated about this album, that’s unfortunately as far as I can go.

I did say “MEDIA LUNA” had good production, and it started out great, but then Mora hits you with a disjointed flow that almost makes the song unbearable. Songs like “LAGUNA” and “LOKITA” are terrible in every way imaginable, almost laughable to an extent. “COCERGA” and “MAREA” are as bland as could be, and “DIAMONDS” went off the rails after a good sample in the intro. This isn’t even mentioning the horrible lyricism and rhymes that are scattered throughout the record.

Most of the songs I mentioned above included guest features that either added nothing to the song or were a detriment to it. I’ve heard people point out that most of the features on ESTRELLA included unknown artists like RaiNao and Dei V. While I don’t have a problem with those inclusions, I do wonder why Mora didn’t have some bigger names on here, having worked with artists such as Bad Bunny, Feid, Anuel, and even Metro Boomin’. One can interpret this as an omen for Mora’s future.

Here are my ratings for each song on a scale of 0-4:

1. MEDIA LUNA – 2
2. PASAJERO – 3
3. POLVORA (featuring Yandel) – 3
4. DONDE SE APRENDE A QUERER? – 4
5. REINA(featuring Saiko) – 4
6. FANTASIAS – 1
7. EL CHACAL– 2
8. LAGUNA (featuring Arcangel) – 0
9. LOKITA – 1
10. PIDE (featuring RaiNao) – 2
11. UN DESEO (also featuring RaiNao) – 4.
12. DIAMONDS (featuring Dei V) – 1
13. CORCEGA (featuring Alvaro Diaz) – 2
14. MAREA – 2
15. AYER Y HOY – 3

SCORE/Poor: ESTRELLA, in my opinion, was Mora’s last chance to show that he can make it in such a competitive genre. Of course, “competitive” only applies to anyone who isn’t Bad Bunny, who will undoubtedly hold onto his monopoly over Latin music for the next few years. A simple look at Mora’s discography shows that his music is decreasing in quality, and a simple look at the reggaeton community shows a lack of interest in him. This leads me to an unfortunate conclusion: Mora isn’t (and never was) that talented. It’s not good enough to be just “good” (which should always be the bare minimum), you have to be great.

[We rank albums on a scale of Poor, Mediocre, Good, Excellent, and Outstanding]

The post Mora – ESTRELLA (Album Review) appeared first on Music Review World.

Now, if you are familiar with GVF, then you already know why they have been divisive and critically panned throughout the music world. When most people put on a song or an album of theirs, they already know what they’re getting into. As a critic, I try to be as objective as possible when listening to an album, but I would be doing a disservice if I didn’t mention the obvious.

Yes, they still sound very much like Led Zeppelin.

Within the first ten seconds of the first song, hearing Josh Kiszka’s impersonation of Robert Plant, I took off my headphones and wondered if I should bother finishing the job. Of course, I felt myself to be hyper-pessimistic, so I scraped any biases out of my head and moved on.

Of course, not every song sounded exactly like Led Zeppelin. The first song, “Fate of the Faithful”, wasn’t actually that bad and sounded fresh, with some nicely textured keyboards that make up the backbone. However, there was the ascending chord progression that felt overused and was mismatched with Josh’s vocals. Unfortunately, the album never picked up from here.

“Sacred the Thread” was the only other song I found to be interesting, which included some good vocal melodies and a build-up of a nice atmosphere towards the end. However, I cannot get over how the drum groove at the start of the song is the same one as Led Zeppelin’s “When the Levee Breaks”, just with worse production. “The Falling Sky” had a similar issue, with a guitar tone that is strikingly similar to Jimmy Page’s, and even a harmonica section that sounds like something off a Zeppelin record. Josh’s vocals even went through the motions just as Robert Plant would.

Speaking of Kiszka’s vocals, other than the obvious comparisons I’ve already laid out, they were absolutely unbearable throughout most of this album. The high pitch yells and shrill screeching was like nails scratching on a chalkboard, with the poor mixing not doing any favors. We get the worst of this on “The Archer”, the most unredeemable track on the entire project, with Josh exaggerating his vocals over a very soulless instrumental.

Josh’s twin brother also didn’t do the record any favors with his guitar work. While James had a decent solo on “Runaway Blues”, a song that’s full of energy yet simultaneously dull, it’s the only one worth looking at. “Meeting the Master”, the lead single off the record, features one of the most boring guitar solos I’ve heard in a while; that’s besides the fact that the song takes two minutes to build up to an extremely flaccid climax.

Yet, even while taking all of this into account, I haven’t mentioned the most laughable part of this entire project. Earlier, I did mention that not every song sounded like Led Zeppelin. While there are songs that I have mentioned that at least sound fresh in our modern era, Greta Van Fleet managed to rip off another band – Yes.

“The Indigo Streak” – with an organ preset that sounds like the one Rick Wakeman used, a guitar tone that sounds very similar to Steve Howe’s, and vocal harmonies that are reminiscent of Jon Anderson and Chris Squire – is nothing short of a formulaic Yes song without any of the good musicianship. More specifically, this sounds like a lost throwaway track that could’ve been featured on a record like Close to the Edge or Tales from Topographic Oceans. “Frozen Light” is similar, with James’s guitar tone sounding very similar to what prog guitarists used. I guess this is what GVF meant when they said they were trying to lean towards a more “progressive” sound, which is ironic, considering how the same “verse – pre-chorus – chorus” formula is rinsed and repeated throughout most of these songs, along with the lack of any good lyrics that tell a story.

At this point, I truly wonder if the band has any shame in what they’re doing, especially with how they gaslight their audience whenever someone points out their obvious tropes. It’s a little hard to blame them though, especially when they’re being thrown money and are lauded by rock fans who refuse to take off their nostalgia glasses.

Here are my ratings for each song on a scale of 0-4:

1. Fate of the Faithful – 3
2. Waited All Your Life – 1
3. The Falling Sky – 0
4. Sacred the Thread – 3
5. Runaway Blues – 1
6. The Indigo Streak – 1
7. Frozen Light – 1
8. The Archer – 0
9. Meeting the Master – 1
10. Farewell for Now – 1

SCORE/Poor: I don’t like quoting Anthony Fantano, but there is something he said in his review of GVF’s debut album, on how the band “spits in the face of artistic evolution.” Even after three full-length albums and six years of mild relevancy, those words still ring true.

[We rank albums on a scale of Poor, Mediocre, Good, Excellent, and Outstanding]

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At its core “Better Now” is the very definition of what jazz should be. Exciting, unpredictable, and an honest representation of what the artist is feeling. Sound Liberation goes above and beyond this definition, by incorporating varied performances and sometimes genres you wouldn’t even think could mix.

How the album opens is already interesting enough, “Quarantine Blues” has an ethereal feel and is almost like wandering through a desert alone. The changes and additions of various instruments throughout the track give it a chaotic feel that captures the confusion and frustration of 2020’s quarantine quite well.

 Then we have “Time Does Not Bring Relief”, an incredibly emotive and creative track that utilizes two different styles of singing, one performance is more of a grandiose, opera style, whilst the other is more of a mellow RnB voice. Surprisingly, they work well together and fit the emotionally intense instrumentation of the song.

We see this style of singing again on “The difference Unhappiness – From Sadness Expensive Prayer”, however this time it takes the forefront of the song and isn’t just a layer, allowing for the singer’s voice to truly shine through and fully envision the instrumentation and ambiance of the track.  The singer’s performance on this song is in my opinion one of the best singing performances on the album as a whole, it’s emotive, luxurious, and powerful.

However, the performance I enjoy the most is the feel-good RnB crooning on the two-part tracks “Outside” and “Better Now”.  The hook on “Outside” is a well-written earworm that embodies an old-school RnB feel which I assume the singer would’ve been inspired by. The song has a warm comforting feeling almost like a sunny Sunday.

Not to mention the transition between the two tracks is done really well and makes them both better songs for it, it’s almost like you can’t listen to one without listening to the other.

We also see more of the band’s jazz and instrumental-based roots in the song “Unreachable Light”, a wordless track in which the instrumental musicians are given the spotlight. The track starts slow and in pieces, with the horn player, in my opinion, kind of stealing the show a little bit. At around the three-minute mark, the song undergoes a complete switch up into a more acoustic-based rhythm with a smooth, whiskey-like plucky guitar which perfectly captured that slick bar room, blues-style feeling.

The most impressive show of instrumentation, however, is the last track, “Vivaldi’s Hot House”, a strange yet ingenious blend of Antonio Vivaldi’s “Storm” and traditional high energy Bebop Jazz. It’s quite a clever mix-up, as the intensity of “Storm” doesn’t sound out of place with the chaotic sound of Bebop, if anything they sound more similar than dissimilar. An exciting, experimental risk that ultimately pays off.

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SCORE/Good + : Better Now has a lot of creative high points. The band has an excellent sense of creativity and it’s amazing how well they have managed to blend completely different genres together. On the other hand, there were moments on this album where I thought some of the songs went on for too long and instances where some of the lyrics and performances were slightly generic. However, this is still a great and fun project that is surely worth anyone’s time.

[I rank albums on a scale of: Poor, Mediocre, Good, Excellent, Outstanding]

Written by Jake Campbell

The post Sound Liberation: Better Now (Album Review) appeared first on Music Review World.

The Tribute Review

One of the many things I enjoy about reviewing music is that it plunges you into genres outside of your immediate perspective. Whilst I have dabbled in listening to compilations of pianists such as Bill Evans and Thelonius Monk, I have never actually sat down and listened to a full piano album from start to finish, making reviewing this album almost a completely new experience for me. Luckily for me, however, Hovig feels like a pianist who embraces the ear of newcomers, as well as more seasoned instrumentalists.

To begin with, whilst listening to the first song, the idea of listening to one sole instrument for a whole album seemed daunting to me. As a rap fan I’m used to loud bass, eccentric adlibs, and clever wordplay, with this album there was only Hovig and his piano. However, Hovig proves that sometimes all you need is an instrument and an imagination in order to tell a story. “Mè Mèmè” is a fine example of what I mean. Through four variations, Hovig takes us on a journey through the life of “Grandma Vehanoush”, the woman to whom the song is tributed, using the delicate keys of his piano alone.

The song “Anna” in particular showed me how much emotion can be conveyed using the piano. It’s unclear whether the song is about love or heartbreak, but I think that’s the beauty of it, it’s about both simultaneously and, depending on what the listener is going through, the meaning of the song is interchangeable.

“April 24”  feels simple, to begin with, but soon fills itself up with a grandiose atmosphere that exudes a sense of importance and sadness. The grandiosity soon quells down into a slow sense of acceptance, as if Hovig recognizes the pain of whatever this date means to him, yet he is moving on from it.

One of my only gripes with the album is the intro. Its tone feels too flowery and whimsical compared to the exceptionally emotional tone of the rest of the songs on the album, and for me, it just falls flat when compared to some of the other more interesting songs like “Anna” or “April 24”.

As my first experience listening to a solo piano album, Hovig has not only impressed me, but convinced me to explore more work of the genre, and that might well be the best compliment you can give an artist. If there are any music fans looking for a way to get into the world of piano, I feel like Hovig’s music would be a good entry point. As for more seasoned fans of the genre, I see no reason why they can’t enjoy this album in the same way I did.

Check out all the stories behind each track on the album Here

SCORE/Excellent: Hovig shows great complexity and emotion without being pretentious, making this an excellent listen for newcomers like myself and yet still interesting for people who know their way around a set of black-and-white keys. Give it a listen!

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Facebook: https://facebook.com/hovigpiano
Twitter: https://twitter.com/hovignassanian
Buy Tribute On Apple
Youtube Channel
Official Website: https://necessarykuriosity.com

[I rank albums on a scale of: Poor, Mediocre, Good, Excellent, Outstanding].

Written by Jake Campbell.

The post Hovig Nassanian: Tributes (Album Review) appeared first on Music Review World.

Mandango, also known as “The Man With The Inner Voice,” has a rich musical history, having launched his career with the single “One Man Story” in 1996 and subsequently releasing his debut album “Dancing With The Memories” in 1997. The artist’s journey has been marked by a successful European tour, numerous singles, and videos, with notable radio-played tracks such as “Jasmin” and the soulful guitar instrumental “Can’t Find My Way Back Home.”

The artist’s versatility is evident in the variety of his work, ranging from the studio album “Stranger” to “Past for Present” and other lesser-known gems. Beyond his solo career, Mandango has carved a niche for himself in the music business, television, and film industry, contributing as a producer, songwriter, and studio/session guitarist.

His dedication to music is unmistakable, and he is recognized as an honest artist who immerses himself completely in his craft.

The backstory of Mandango’s name, derived from “Mandango” (the Sleeping Inca), adds an intriguing layer to his persona. The association with a mountain in Ecuador, particularly in the Vilcabamba region referred to as the “Playground of the Inca,” reveals a connection to a beautiful and magical place, echoing the artist’s deep appreciation for the mysteries of nature.

Rating – Good – “My Guiding Star” encapsulates Mandango’s sincere and uncompromising dedication to his craft, serving as a testament to the transformative power of parenthood. The song’s poignant lyrics, combined with Mandango’s soulful delivery, create an emotional resonance that will undoubtedly strike a chord with listeners who share a similar profound connection with their own “Guiding Star.”

[We rank singles, EPs, and albums on a scale of Poor, Mediocre, Good, Excellent, and Outstanding]

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The post Mandango – My Guiding Star [Single Review] appeared first on Music Review World.

I was immediately intrigued and immersed in its auditory entirety when I heard its opening ‘pentatonic-like piano riff.’ The songwriting on this track is profoundly heartfelt, a credit to the synergy of Benjamin Francis Leftwich, Jon Green, Jimmy Hogwarth, and Seren Smith.

On his Instagram, Ben writes that “Break in the Weather is a kind of surrendered prayer for the sunlight of the spirit to emerge again after experiences of pain and separation, whether that be in relationships, emotions, or spirituality”.

He also writes that his new album, set to release on February 9th, 2024, is his “favourite music he has ever created,” that sentiment resonates in this song. You can feel the passion in his vocal performance, and the rawness of the track (with just him and a piano accompanied by some pads) creates the sensation as if he’s right there in the room with you.

Rating – Outstanding – This song truly stands out as an emotive and promising glimpse into the artist’s upcoming album, making it an eagerly awaited release.

[We rank singles, EPs, and albums on a scale of Poor, Mediocre, Good, Excellent, and Outstanding]

The post Benjamin Francis Leftwich – Break in the Weather [Song Review] appeared first on Music Review World.