Word: chorused
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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Tripping Daisy reaches a little further with "Change of Mind," which features a nice guitar line to open the song, and a semi-psychedelic, echoing quality to DeLaughter's vocals. The chorus harmonies add a lilting sound to the song, which fits surprisingly well with the underlying guitar, and only the occasionally stupid lyrics ("Little Jack Horner sitting in a corner") get in the way of enjoying the song...
...opens with "My Umbrella," a single which has gained substantial air-time on--you guessed it--alternative stations. The tune has the strong bass essential to alternative songs ranging from L7's "Pretend That We're Dead" to the Spin Doctors' "Two Princes," and features a catchy, somewhat inane, chorus: "Don't let your love/Fall on down on my umbrella." The guitar riffs are well executed if a tad typical, and singer Tim DeLaughter intones the lyrics with the prescribed amount of nasality. The song is entertaining, and "One Through Four" and "Blown Away" follow in the same vein, driven...
...accordion and a bass: the vocal melody does all the work. "Gleaner (The Deeds of Fertile Jim)" uses a deadpan strum not unlike the one perfected by college-radio heroes Sebadoh (whose "Brand New Love" the knowing lyrics quote). "Exit Flagger" rides a pushmepullyou-like hook to the chorus, where it suddenly gains a kick more powerful than your average well-trained racehorse (About those titles: main guy Robert Pollard has said that before recording sessions, the band makes up a long list of weird titles, then tires to write a song to match each one. I'll believe that...
Clinton's plans for intervention in Bosnia met with a chorus of teeth-chattering. We fear the Balkans; we fear the fierce, tribal warfare and the lack of clear boundaries. Most of us opposed sending any troops to Bosnia, no matter how limited the mission's objectives. But in Somalia--a land of fierce, tribal warfare, where clear boundaries are hard to find--we feared...
Dogged by respiratory problems, Davis' once assertive, quicksilver trumpet tone flickers and flares like an oxygen-starved flame. On Miles Ahead he sits out long passages, but with trumpeter Wallace Roney backing him up, Davis' pride and defiance burn through as he suddenly leaps into the final chorus, bobbing atop the careening rhythm with a tone that begins as a crackle and winds up pure and delicate as crystal. On the slow-building Solea, he struggles to find himself, then, catching his wind, lets fly a cascade of notes that arc and shimmer with the same brassy authority he wielded...