Word: basses
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...never truly resolved. Fuck's fascination with the nature of fame is evident from the first song. The album opens with "the thing," a short piece that attempts to mock the expectations surrounding their name. A woman's voice, credited as the "sacrificial lamb," screams above low-rumbling bass and guitar while the band's lead singer, Tim Prodhumme, mumbles incoherently about "the thing." Yes, this is the Fuck we expected...
...lovely and fitting end to an album that strives to take itself seriously with a variety of incongruous textures, styles and ambiguous messages. In an arrangement Fuck seems to favor, a single guitar strums slow chords, accompanied only by a simple snare beat and an extremely sparse bass line. Prodhumme sings without affectation or stylized humor about the inability of anyone to truly know themself: "Talkin' to a blind beauty about beauty/Talkin' to the red brigade about the blue/talking to a fairy tale/Let's talk about something else/We don't know ourselves/Me...
...verse, bridge, verse. "Extra Pale" is a brief flash of distinction in the obscurity created by so many homophonic songs with its abrupt pauses and nicely-incorporated backup vocals. Those who might be tired of "Iris" will welcome its mandolin and violins to break up the thickness of guitar, bass and drums characterizing the rest of this album. The strangest quality of the music of Dizzy Up the Girl, however, is just how darn upbeat it is. Most songs move to quick-paced rhythms and, at the chorus, slide up scales for an almost uplifting effect. The music, in fact...
...soon, out of the low rumble of the crowd came the lustrous syncopation of a trumpet, drums, bass and saxophone...
...excellent and witty assistance of veteran Cardigans producer Tore Johannson integrating diverse genre elements and quotations to create the albums deliriously composite and cohesive sound. Good Humor is almost inconceivable: a broad, ecstatic blend of the pristine disco of ABBA, the elegant jazz pop of Steely Dan, the rhythmic bass throb of funk and the bleary-eyed cocktail electronica of trip-hop. The product is anything but tired; on Sylvie, for example, the rueful, cosmopolitan irony of the lyric is offset completely by a glowing arrangement. The overlay of subtle syncopations and retro instrumentation makes the song surreal and engaging...