With percussion and guitars that sound like they're made from tree branches, they built a single with Hollies-esque vocals ("Who Could Win a Rabbit") every sung line of nonsense here yields a straightforward hook, and the naturalistic aesthetic comes to life in a sparkling, almost surround-sound production that lets the extended instrumentals build and ebb like gusts of breeze on your face. While Animal Collective are sometimes mocked for their "sticks and stones" naturalism, Sung Tongs succeeds by tempering its spontaneity. Mark PytlikĪfter many walkabouts through the far reaches of sound, noise, and melody, Animal Collective released what you could call their "breakthrough" record in 2004: Sung Tongs was surprisingly accessible, an herbal ear bath that still satisfied their die-hard followers.
If he does, will it be the same? Probably not. Luckily, when it comes to the latter, there's hope- Mike Skinner feels something happening with 2-step and garage and wonders if he can happen with it. Like anyone with affection for a long dead scene, he flits between indulging his nostalgia and pushing things forward. He turns his attention instead to more earthly delights- booze, women, weed, takeaway- all of which he leans on to divert him from the creeping realities of depression, his bank balance, the government. He still occasionally dabbles in pills but when he does, it feels like he's fumbling for past glories. Now he sees those same superclubs shuttering up and, like rave itself, Skinner feels himself getting older. He remembers following rave into superclubs, and tolerating sketchier drugs, skyrocketing prices, and massive queues. Mike Skinner remembers the halcyon days of England's rave culture: the underground parties, the DJs, the big tracks, the pianos that loop over and over and over.
0 kommentar(er)
