I'm trying to not think of this tune as novelty, but when a ballet dancer moonlights as a crooning synth popper, it's hard to really know how to receive it. I suppose that's part of the allure. As is the sheer catchiness.Karl Biscuit - La Morte
A spontaneous autobiographical disclosure. A free-form slo-mo listening party. A song a day. Yours to enjoy.
I'm trying to not think of this tune as novelty, but when a ballet dancer moonlights as a crooning synth popper, it's hard to really know how to receive it. I suppose that's part of the allure. As is the sheer catchiness.
It's no secret that piano-based musical theatrics are generally not my cuppa tea. At the same time, I consider myself man enough to dig Kate Bush without the slightest irony. I don't care if she's indirectly responsible for the likes of Tori Amos. Small price to pay for some of the best British caterwauling of the '80s. I love it when she's all screamy, like on this one.
I remember in the late '90s when Portishead frequently found its way into swanky restaurant/ cocktail party playlists. It never seemed right. The music wanted to be enjoyed in as much solitude as possible. You didn't have to be depressed, but it helped to at least be silent. I like that their comeback album seems designed to spook away any such soundtracking accidents.
You know a band is great when it can pull on several of the best musical threads of their time and still sound uniquely like themselves. The unfortunately-named Kissing The Pink left a pretty thin body of work, but it's all worth your time. I posted a track a while back, but I think they deserve a more than a little extra love, if only for the delightfully weird synth sound at the base of this song. Moody deliciousness.
What's not to love about a singer that sounds like a child who spent her formative years locked in an empty room with only cobwebs and black-and-white TV for company? Apparently, her older brother played guitar and let her join his band of pale boys with black hair hanging over their faces. I remember blasting this out of crappy speakers in my high school bedroom (no b&w TV there) and thinking ominous thoughts about the oncoming Year 2000. Then I did my Physics homework.