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Callahan’s deep gruff voice meanders through acoustic non-linear arrangements like a limo driver telling a story, completely oblivious to their own cowboy poetry.
The insurance inspector shook her head. She’d never seen a fire consume a structure so quickly and completely; this must be some new form of accelerant. Most curiously, the inferno seemed to have started at the stereo speakers.
This collection of instrumentals is bewildering in its variety and intent, miniature symphonies with the tinkling plunk of a toy orchestra and a sharp whiff of sulfur from a struck match.
The celebrated funk guitarist releases this collection of R&B and/or big-band inflected compositions, featuring some notable guest stars, but it’s all just wrapping paper on a big cinderblock of groove.
The bewitching chanteuse and the mute production wizard is a pairing that has yielded consistently intriguing results through the ages, and these VideoSong pioneers are still leading today’s pack.
The recipe for Yello’s bass-heavy, rhythmic, mid-tempo groovecake has not changed in forever, and it still makes the ideal soundtrack for putting on your sunglasses and slouching down in your seat.
Someone threw a key party for a bunch of musical genres, and Americana, Rock, and Punk left together. On the dashboard radio on the way to the motel, the Old 97’s were playing.
Swerving wildly between sweetly melodic and audibly unhinged, this carousel of buzzsaw-inflected ditties definitely whirls too fast, and you’ll enjoy every minute of its glitchy post-hardcore pop magic.