Tag: Brian Eno

Tis sweet Prins Thomas, here to salve your romantic woes with impeccable grooves.

Cycles, repetitions, patterns within patterns, beats drifting out of focus and slowly emerging as the same beat, but different. The aural moods on this album are on the ambient side, but reward attention with slow progress and contemplative amnesia.

Barry Adamson delivers soundtracks to cinematic masterpieces that don’t exist.

It doesn’t get more mid-century Goth than The Raveonettes picking up on the Velvet Underground’s “Venus In Furs”. Besides that, the tenor of the night tended to lean towards the acoustic, with a handful of sets exploring the pluckier side of things.

Andrew Bird always manages to fulfill that craving for pizzicato minimalism.

Music all about your special someone and / or a newborn human.

Bo Diddley may have written tonight’s opening cover, and Spoon may be the one actually performing it, but the spirit of Billy Childish, whose version earworms its way through my head every year or so, is quite strong on the shambling, end-of-the-rehearsal vibe heard here. To the listeners voicing strong opinions about the adorably shrill kids’ story that runs at the top of The Final Hour — your notes have been passed on to Management.

Every so often, I’ll gather up some of my favorite tracks from the last sixty minutes of my three-hour radio show and create an entire episode of The Final Hour, this one being the third such installment. This is the music that is played between 11pm and midnight, and it’s generally darker, more instrumental, sometimes even experimental, and this is an opportunity for the chronologically challenged to experience some of that closer to their regular waking hours.

I used to get a couple of dozen packages containing CDs each day, but these days receiving even one is something that happens once in a blue moon, a rare treat. It’s even more special when it contains a couple of releases from Sex Clark Five, one of my personal favorites. They sound like blurting out that thing you told yourself you weren’t going to say but felt good to say.

A series of alien transmissions, ready for your fascinated decoding. A layering of sounds that are salty, sweet, savory. An incomprehensible message competing with a carnival across town and your roommate blasting Led Zeppelin through muffling walls.