Word: kitsched
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...delicate construction here, the band proves the same is true of itself. Messner aches with lush compositions that expand both BFF's sound (string arrangements accompany their trademark piano/bass/drum combination) and their identity. Sure, "punk rock for sissies" was a fun label for their often-silly post-kitsch nods to pissed-off ex-boyfriends and love-struck goofballs, but it hardly accommodates the stylish, lingering sway delivered here. The grandiose sweep of "Narcolepsy" leads into a series of cool, ruminative ballads echoing the mellow-sweet classical pop of Bacharach and Rundgren. Folds blends everything from the country-western atheistic lament...
...other times, Mora becomes too engrossed in writing in a folk tradition and falls into the trap of sentimentality and kitsch. "Corn and trees glow in the sunset, grace manifest May our work enrich the earth. Hear our request/This night and at our death, en paz may we rest," she writes in "Saint Isidore the Farmer." Such passages lose the transcendent quality that should mark them as religious poetry. They are too focused on this earth. More often than not, though, Mora manages to find the right balance between religion and reality, between the glory of the next life...
Deconstruction everywhere. Retro is getting tired. Until they start making ice cream flavors in Postmodern Pistachio Pastiche, this headlong rush to reassemble everything from its self-conscious rubble can still be stomached. Put postmodernism in your mouth and you'll find it's indigestible. Thankfully, and refreshingly, kitsch-pop masters Pizzicato Five can still render postmodernism an enjoyably tasteful joy ride. They trip through safe and smiley TV-land in a jalopy heap slapped together from '60s and jap pop, hip hop beats, funk threads, classical samples, bossa nova riffs and exotica, running on smooth easy-listening gas. Maki Nomiya...
...Kitsch is passe now, did you know...
Deconstruction everywhere. Retro is getting tired. Until they start making ice cream flavors in Postmodern Pistachio Pastiche, this headlong rush to reassemble everything from its self-conscious rubble can still be stomached. Put postmodernism in your mouth and you'll find it's indigestible. Thankfully, and refreshingly, kitsch-pop masters Pizzicato Five can still render postmodernism an enjoyably tasteful joy ride. They trip through safe and smiley TV-land in a jalopy heap slapped together from '60s and jap pop, hip hop beats, funk threads, classical samples, bossa nova riffs and exotica, running on smooth easy-listening gas. Maki Nomiya...