Word: singings
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...Metro Life magazine that he can neither holler nor hoof, and suggested that the show's producers should "take out an ad on the front page of each arts section in town and have it say, 'Please don't think that you're paying to see Richard Dreyfuss sing and dance because you'll only be pissed off.'" Worse, he went on to accuse writer and co - producer Mel Brooks of bullying. "Tell Mel Brooks this," Dreyfuss instructed. "'Please don't yell at Richard ? Richard thinks of this as fun, not business." Then came a television appearance...
...know, Bill, it doesn’t take explicit reference to prove how much this album owes to MDMA; it comes off just as forcefully in the lush sound. Bouncy dance beats, sneering guitars and Ryder’s atonal sing-speak mingle in a chaotic and perplexing stew. On the surface is nothing but the smooth veneer of glorious production and funky beats, but just underneath is chaotic and threatening matter, a reflection of the dichotomy between the grimmer actualities of the band’s milieu and their perception of it. The pills...
...jubilant sound. Without a break, “Harmony” follows. The beat slips into languor as once again the band inverts the familiar, this time plying a Coca-Cola jingle onto their own terms: “I’d like to teach the world to sing in perfect harmony / cut it up into little bits and give it away for free.” Harmony, it seems, cannot be attained without the presence of favored chemicals. The blend of familiar and friends with drugged-out and dangerous is a hallmark of Pills...
...piano, so he could dig his toes into the sand while composing. He installed a tent in his study for smoking and relaxing; the only source of light inside was a small bulb that required a continual diet of coins to stay lit. He had his bandmates sing vocal parts while lying at the bottom of an empty swimming pool, “just to get that sound.” It was all very innocent and charming, and the music was brilliant...
...past. “Counting Down the Hours” enters in with brushed guitar and quiet vocals before swing-time guitars and a chiming synth line make Leo show off his range and force. His pedigree in punk shines through when he is forced to sing over loud guitar parts, and his vocals are easily the strength of the album. “Little Dawn” is a nearly six-minute treat, with a lengthy fadeout of whirling guitars and limping bass over Leo singing “it’s alright” over and over...