Word: sonics
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...company is furthering its sonic exploration of the Big Apple with two new releases in April. A Wall Street CD will not only feature sounds of the financial district's bustling trading floors, it will also showcase ambient electronica and turntable sounds from hip record labels like Tigersushi and 75 Ark. A Little Italy CD will take tourists to Albanese Meat and Poultry, a traditional butcher shop that features Momo the Butcher behind the counter. Vinny Vella, the self-proclaimed mayor of Elizabeth Street and a veteran character actor (Casino), narrates the CD, which includes Italian and Italian-American songs...
...atmospheric echoes and acoustic guitars; electronic keyboards tinkle through most of the songs while the sound of strings hover in the background tastefully, conjuring the image of a dim room with couples draped lazily over each other. “Home” builds to an intense, layered sonic climax that really does leave you blissed-out. But tracks like “Passing By” ironically sum up the disposable melodic sensibility of the record—“I’m only passing by,” Sophie Barker croons soulfully. When It Falls floats...
Kolarik, meanwhile, is a 5’10, 195-lb. sparkplug who occasionally makes like Sonic the Hedgehog and skates through people twice his size. He’s the team’s emotional barometer, a vocal leader with a penchant for scoring big goals in big games. He can change the momentum with one shift, whether he scores or not. “The kid’s the heart and soul of our program,” Fried said...
Sheesh, talk about a worthless album. Not since all those Sonic Youth noise records have I been clobbered over the head with something so disappointingly unlistenable and uninspired. At least the folks behind SY had the decency to release that shit under a different name and label, admitting from the outset that the meager effort they put in wasn’t worth the same respect or attention as their real music. Listening to this Liars drivel you’d think it was a different band playing than the one behind They Threw Us All in a Trench...
Into TCTC’s sonic hearth go Pink Floyd’s manic magnificence, Radiohead’s electronic imagination and Oasis’ lyrical sensibility. The album reaches full force at the moments where these elements combine most finely; “A.I.M.” (not related to our favorite electronic pastime) begins with a coarse industrial beat, develops with Yorke-like, dreamy lyrics and peaks with a driving, distortion-saturated chorus and sweet lyric hook. “Promises, Promises” expands from a straight-ahead power riff, introducing altered chords and electronic ambience...