Word: sonics
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...vocal subtleties on repeated listens.“Before Tigers” is followed by the decidedly unsubtle “Severin” and “Eat Flesh,” which are the closest “Get Color” comes to the all out sonic violence of their eponymous debut. After that, however, there is a sudden and even forced change of pace. The final tracks, “We Are Water” and “In Violet,” are slower, dirgelike experiments with softness. Both unfortunately fall flat because HEALTH...
...their previous style, but it detracts from the band’s originally interesting simplicity. The added effects attempt, and fail, to hide fairly shoddy song writing. “Time to Die” is not as tuneful as “Visiter” and their new sonic elements, though adventurous, fail to be as intriguing as the catchy melodies of their former work. “Fables” comes closest with an almost infectious chorus: “I don’t want to go in the fire / I just want to stay...
...understandable but largely overblown criticism that the album lacks stylistic variety and lapses too easily into a monotone. Though “Signal Morning” retains many of that album’s lyrical themes, (circular time, nature, nostalgia, and otherworldly transcendence) it’s a closer sonic companion to Hart’s work on “Black Foliage.” This should come as no surprise, since all former OTC members, including Bill Doss, play on “Signal Morning.”“Signal Morning” posits the intricate...
...with the craggy and uncompromisingly melodic. Not unlike the generation of grunge bands it inspired, it never seemed meant to last. Well-beloved but critically understated in general, the band was, for a time, the middle-child of indie rock’s late-eighties inception; robbed both of Sonic Youth’s extended-career veneration and the Pixies’ cult-pop status, Dinosaur Jr. was expected to produce a single masterpiece—namely 1987’s “You’re Living All Over Me,”—and languish...
...ninth studio album—and “Dark Days/Light Years” feels effortless, the work of a highly skilled group of musicians having fun with each other.The prevailing happiness does not preclude SFA from ambition or from surprising the listener; after all, sudden and often bizarre sonic transitions are a tradition with this band. Take the opener, “Crazy Naked Girls,” which begins with random noise that leads into a simple, maddeningly addictive riff in a manner reminiscent of Pavement’s “Silence Kit.” With...