This 2004 collection from Cherry Red Records covers music made by living legend composer Ennio Morriconefor films in the late 1960’s and early 1970’s. It’s a wild, trippy mix of music for thrillers, erotic comedies, and crime films.
It starts with three tracks from one of the best giallo films ever made, Dario Argento’s The Bird with the Crystal Plumage. The theme, “Plume di Cristallo,” begins the journey into a dark, shadowy world with creepy, child-like vocals, tinkling crystal bells, and acoustic guitar that’s both warm and chilling at the same time. The lovely, almost waltz-like “Non Rimane Piu Nessano” and the jazz freak-out “Corsa Sui Tetti” (which sounds like a fight inside a dark club) follow.
After that we get two from another Argento film that Morricone scored – Four Flies on Grey Velvet – “Come Un Madrigale” (which reminds one of a winter stroll through a bleak yet beautiful city park) and the film’s main theme – which incorporates both gospel and circus music elements…because Morricone is a bad ass.
Up next are tracks from the film One Night at Dinner – “Sauna” (which is luxurious as you’d hope with sparkling xylophones), “Alla Luce Del Giorno” (with plenty of psychedelic keyboard work, meaningless vocal sounds, and psych-pop guitar), and “Uno Che Grida Amore” (in which you can hear touches of his spaghetti western soundtracks – the piano – and lush strings mixing with jazz drums).
We’re off to the film Forza G with the smooth and lush (Those strings!) “Sospeci Fra Le Nuvole” and the film’s main theme with its sweet jazz drumming. “L’assoluto Naturale” (from She and He) follows with haunting French horn backed with simple acoustic guitar chords to produce a haunting effect. The short, action sequence-ready “Studio Di Colore” (also from She and He) could fit into nearly any bank heist scene.
The main theme to “Indagine Su Un Cittadino Al Di Sopra Di Ogni Sospetto” (Investigation of a Citizen Above Suspicion) is track on this record most like one from Morricone’s spaghetti westerns with its mouth harp, quirky piano chords, and clockwork percussion. “Terazza” (from the 1977 comedy Il Gatto / The Cat) has poppy lounge organ mixed with sexy, slithering beats and slightly Latin horns. The closer is another track from Il Gatto – “Mariangela e la Seduzione” – which belongs on your next make-out mix tape because it’s practically the sounds of a woman having a long orgasm while lounge jazz plays behind her.
This is a must for film score buffs, fans of Morricone’s work, or psychedelic jazz. Morricone is a true maestro and his influence on music and pop culture is phenomenal.
Dehumanization, over-reliance on technology, (un)intentional loneliness, love, freedom, sex, and the inward journey toward finding the true self are just some of the concepts covered on Janelle Monae‘s newest, and best yet, record – Dirty Computer.
The title refers to a futuristic world in which people who don’t fit into social norms are classified as “dirty” and relegated to either second or third-class citizenship or brainwashed into civility. What’s worse is that many of us do this to ourselves daily. The title track (featuring Brian Wilson, no less) sets the tone. “I’m not that special. I’m broke inside, crashing slowly. The bugs are in me,” she sings as she shuffles through a bleak, futuristic landscape looking for love.
“Crazy, Classic, Life” begins with a sermon preaching that freedom, life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness is for everyone no matter their social status, sexual preference, or skin color. “I just want to party hard, sex in a swimming pool. I don’t need a lot of cash. I just want to break the rules,” Monae sings behind big, bold beats. “I am not the American nightmare. I am the American dream,” she proclaims. It’s a rallying cry for everyone.
The beats on “Take a Byte” remind me of Tears for Fears at first, and then they switch to sultry house beats as Monae claims she’s not the kind of girl you take home to meet your mother. She’d rather you nibble on her mocha skin. Meow. “Screwed” keeps up the sexy theme (“Wanna get screwed at a festival, wanna get screwed like an animal.”) and takes potshots at those in power who are screwing over those below them (“You fucked the world up now, we’ll fuck it all back down.”).
If you don’t think she’s serious, then consider “Django Jane,” in which Monae puts down a fierce rap about misogyny with lyrics like, “And we gonna start a mother-fuckin’ pussy riot, or we gonna have to put ’em on a pussy diet.” and “Let the vagina have a monologue.”
It’s fitting (and tongue-in-cheek…and more) that “Pynk” follows, as it’s a tribute not only to lady parts, but also to female sexuality and empowerment. As if that weren’t sexy enough, “Make Me Feel” is perhaps the sexiest song of the year as Monae boldly comes out of the closest as pansexual. Monae worked with Prince on some of the sounds of this record before his death, and his influence is immediately apparent on this track with its funky guitar, swelling synths, and dance beats.
“I Got the Juice” is Monae again claiming her freedom from expectations, illusions, and haters – including one in the White House when she states, “If you try to grab this pussy, then this pussy’ll grab you back.” “I Like That” has Monae telling us that she’s happy with who she is at this point in her life, which is really what all of us want. Her vocals on “Don’t Judge Me” are lovely, showing her versatility. She can float between serious rap chops and torch songs with ease.
She admits that she’s not perfect on “So Afraid.” She’s tentative about settling down and commitment, and her bold, to-the-back-of-the-church vocals emphasize how she’s on the verge of taking the plunge but still can’t quite make the leap of faith.
“Just love me, baby. Love me for who I am…Don’t try to take my country. I will defend my land. I am not crazy, I’m American,” she sings on “Americans” before dropping in sound bytes of a sermon on what America represents and what it has become in 2018 and it could be in the future. The last lyric on the record, as the music fades, is, “Please sign your name on the dotted line.” Is it a call to action, or a warning?
I’m not sure. That’s for Monae to know and for the rest of us to learn by self-introspection and, among other things, listening to this record.
I last tried to see Public Image Ltd.thirty years ago when a friend of mine in high school won tickets to see them play in Indianapolis. She couldn’t make the show, or just didn’t want to go, and told me she’d give me the tickets once she picked them up from the radio station that held the conotest. She kept avoiding me as the day of the show drew closer. I tracked her down the day of the show and asked about the tickets. She blushed and admitted that she didn’t make it to the station to get them. I was out of luck.
PiL went through many lineup changes and hiatuses and went on many tours that never came close to my neck of the woods since then. I finally got tickets to see them at Chicago’s Thalia Hall…and learned a couple weeks before the show that I was going to have to cancel the trip because a co-worker would still be recovering from surgery. I was, as you can guess, bummed about that.
As fate would have it, however, my co-worker recovered faster than anyone imagined he would and I ended up with the night off…although I still had to work at 6am the next day. I wouldn’t let that stop me, however.
PiL started their set with the low-key “Deeper Water,” and then slowly ramped up the energy from there forward. John Lydon stood like a professor at a podium in front of his microphone and sheet music stand, delivering a lesson on how to own a stage and spit venom (all the while alternating sips of water and straight bourbon from the bottle between songs). He even shimmed and shook a bit on “Bodies.” The crowd was firmly in his hand when they followed it with “Disappointed.”
They were in a great groove when they reached “Death Disco,” “Cruel,” and “I’m Not Satisfied.” The crowd went nuts for “This Is Not a Love Song,” and “Rise” gave me chills after finally getting to hear it live after three decades. Album is one of my favorite records of all time, and getting to hear John Lydon sing even one cut from it was worth the wait.
“Does this look like a fucking cruise ship?” Lydon asked a drunk man in front of the stage as they came back out for the encore. “We don’t do requests.” That guy and his drunk girlfriend were soon removed by security while Lydon waved goodbye to them and he and PiL tore through “Public Image” and “Open Up.”
This was the first show in a long time at which I bought a tour shirt that cost more than twenty dollars. I have a hard time paying more than that for any T-shirt. The official tour shirt was $30.00. I hesitated. My wife said, “Thirty years, man.” She was right. A dollar for every year I waited was a fair price, and completely worth it.
Made not long after he attended a week-long silent meditation retreat, Ron Gallo‘s excellent new album of Zen punk, Stardust Birthday Party, arrives at a crucial time in history when the rich are getting richer, the middle class is disappearing, the poor are being left behind, and people are still clinging to material and mental things that ultimately mean nothing.
“Who Are You? Point to It!” is the short, existential question that opens the record. Can any of us answer this question without words? It jumps into the Alan Watts and Eckhart Tolle-inspired “Always Elsewhere.” It’s one of the best singles of the year and has been my mantra since hearing it. Everyone nowadays seems to be somewhere other than where they really are in space and time. The song is a wild, blaring diatribe against this practice that will make you want to throw away your cell phone, take a breath, and experience the miracle happening right in front of you at this moment.
“Prison Decor” reveals Gallo’s love of Devo with the snappy sound and his playful and slightly weird vocals. “Party Tumor” brings forth Joe Bisirri‘s fat bass as Gallo sings about someone (himself, perhaps?) who constantly needs to be heard and craves attention (“I just need to be heard anytime, anywhere.”) even though this attention will bring no true satisfaction.
“Do You Love Your Company?” starts with a Tibetan meditation bowl clang and then asks if you truly enjoy being in the moment alone or if you seek verification from the illusionary world around you. Gallo’s guitars squawk and chug as much as his intense vocals. “‘You’ Are the Problem” is a wake-up call to everyone who thinks the world is against them but doesn’t realize the issue is within them.
“OM” has the universal chant layered over police sirens, wine bar chatter, and a warning from Gallo’s mind that the mind can’t be stopped, but his relationship with it can be changed. After all, “It’s All Gonna Be OK.” That track is full of fuzzed guitar riffs and some of Dylan Sevey‘s biggest rock drumming on the record.
“I Wanna Die (Before I Die)” is a Zen riddle. “It’s the point of my life,” Gallo sings. It’s the point of all our lives, really. Dying to illusion and freeing the true self is the only goal of all of our lives. Caroline Roseguest stars on “Love Supreme (Work Together),” which has her and Gallo singing about the nature of love, what it means to each of us, and how “God loves it when we work together.”
“Everybody’s trying to be some kind of something,” Gallo sings on “The Password” – a quirky track that reminds me of one of Frank Zappa‘s work. “I don’t even know the password to my own heart,” Gallo says. We all know the passwords to multiple social media accounts, bank accounts, and shopping clubs, but we don’t know how to unlock our inner treasure house.
“Bridge Crossers” discusses how the fear of death is irrational and seems to be a salute to one of Gallo’s teachers of spirituality. The album ends with “Happy Deathday,” a celebration of the end of illusions. “How hard we have to work for a false sense of worth…” Gallo sings. We all tend to lose sight of the joy inside us and right in front of us because it’s easy to succumb to fear. It’s relentless and will overwhelm your life if you let it.
If, like the alien mentioned in “Happy Deathday,” you’re wondering “what the fuck happened” to you, your family, your friends, and the world in general, then this album will be a welcome pleasure. It will remind you that you have what you need within you. You always have.
Keep your mind open.
[I don’t need you to subscribe to make me happy, but I do admit that I would enjoy it.]
Recorded over a couple weeks in a clandestine hotel room in London, Underworldand Iggy Pop(who has been living in London for a while now while spinning records for BBC 6 Music) joined forces to put out a four-song EP – Teatime Dub Encounters. The EP mixes Underworld’s electro wizardry with Pop’s gravelly vocals (man of which seem to be improvised) and memories of the past while embracing an unknown future.
Beginning with the instantly danceable “Bells & Circles,” Underworld puts down some of the sharpest beats of the year and Pop sings / raves about the “golden days of air travel” when you could smoke on airplanes, flirt with stewardesses, and do cocaine in the airplane’s bathroom. By the end, he warns, “There will be no revolution, and that’s why it won’t be televised.”
“Trapped” starts off sounding like music from a 16-bit video game but quickly builds into a track that has you moving before you realize it. Pop unleashes some vicious lyrics about being stuck in a rut. “I’m trapped and I never get out no more. I really wanted to be special, I really wanted to live in heaven. I really thought that I could be free, but all of this is coming back on me,” he laments. “Let’s hear it for Johnny. He’s got a mortgage. He’s got a house. Oh no!” He sings / rants later, pleading for Joe Average to break out of his self-built prison.
“I’ll See Big” is a mellow affair with Pop telling part of the story of how the Stooges got together. He talks about how great it was to have friends that weren’t demanding, but he later had to meet people who were demanding in order to move forward in life.
Pop gets demanding on “Get Your Shirt,” in which he expresses anger over things he’s lost now and then by signing on the dotted line. The Underworld lads, meanwhile, blast you with bright synths and early rave culture beats.
It’s a sharp EP, and it’s great to see and hear legendary performers like this teaming up to make dream projects and spin new material.
“Hey, dude, we are a heavy stoner rock band with doom and psychedelic influences from Nicosia, Cyprus…”
That was the beginning of the e-mail that introduced me to Stonus. I love hearing from bands outside the United States that I might not have discovered otherwise. Stonus’ new EP, Lunar Eclipse, was another great surprise.
The psychedelic influences are evident right away on “Reflections,” on which we hear a quick tale of apprehension and approaching the unknown (or death, perhaps). “Aspirin” roars to life with siren-like guitars and fuzzy bass and drums before reverbed vocals seem into your mind. “Spiritual Realities” brings in the doom influences and seems to increase the atomic weight of the record.
The title track is eight minutes of psychedelia that seems to drift on desert winds or across the Mediterranean Sea. The Middle Eastern-flavored guitar is a great touch and I love how Stonus doesn’t rush the track. It moves at a great pace best suited for introspection or feeling like a bad ass. The album fades out with the short instrumental “Euphoric Misery.” I’m not sure if that’s referencing a bad trip or the misery of coming out of euphoria into reality, but it’s trippy either way.
This is good stoner-psych rock. I don’t know if a full-length album will arrive before an actual lunar eclipse happens (January 2019), but let’s hope so.
Keep your mind open.
[You should subscribe before the next lunar eclipse, too.]
Tim Jones, otherwise known asPreacherman, released one album of weird, funky electronic jazz the combined analog synths with New Age philosophy on creation, love, death, life, the energy of the universe, and probably a hundred other topics I’m forgetting. In the 1980’s, Jones added a guest to his one-man band – T.J. Hustler. Mr. Hustler was a ventriloquist’s dummy who would accompany Jones on stage and preach Jones’ universal philosophy or sometimes have deep metaphysical discussions with Jones while he was playing a modified Hammond B-3.
Jones moved out to Oakland many years ago to take care of his mother, a centenarian, and continued to play in small clubs, DJ karaoke nights, and record material for his own pleasure. Thankfully, Luaka Bop Records have put out a collection of some of Jones’ rarest work – Universal Philosophy: Preacherman Plays T.J. Hustler’s Greatest Hits.
The album opens with “That’s Good,” and synths that sound like the opening to a 1980’s sci-fi romance. Preacherman asks why we keep trying to visit every planet in the solar system except Venus since it’s the planet of love. “We’re going the wrong way, y’all,” he warns as the synths build and take on a bit of a Native American flute sound and it almost turns into an Art of Noise track.
“Feel It” is nine minutes of synth grooves blended with cosmic funk. It’s an instant toe-tapper and is probably being remixed by DJ Shadow even as I write this review. It’s also our first introduction to T.J. Hustler, who talks with a gravelly voice that contains hundreds of years of wisdom. “The age of individualism is upon us, y’all….Constructive knowledge is the only thing that will keep us safe…” Hustler says. He was right in the 1980’s and he’s right again in 2018.
“Tell me why in a world so full, why love’s so hard to find?” Preacherman asks on “Tell Me Why,” a bumping electro-disco track with synth bass as sweet as maple syrup. Jones asks why we’re so empty in a world not only full of people, but full of ways to communicate faster than ever before. He also predicts it won’t be long before everything’s wiped away, so we’d better get right with the Creator and each other now.
“Out of This World” is truly that, with Preacherman slapping down bump-and-grind grooves as he pines for a lover from another planet who needs to be “a love sensation…a lot of fun…the right vibration…the only one.” “Age of Individualism” has synth beats that MGMT dream of creating.
On the epic “Up and Down,” T.J. Hustler explains how time is crucial to movement. “We move up and down and around,” Preacherman preaches over his electric beats and keyboards that sound like he pulled them out of a video game. T.J. Hustler explains everything from aging and nutrition to relaxation and letting go of attachments in order to expand one’s consciousness. There’s so much to process in this track that I can’t cover all of it, but you’ll be fascinated with every second of it.
As if that weren’t enough, the closer is the fifteen-minute track “The Wrong Way,” in which Jones preaches about the order of the universe and how the planets’ movement is linked to sex, love, and tantric energy. He also warns against us “fuckin’ up this planet” and how we’re doomed to die by fire if we don’t take care of Mother Earth. He even rants against the system (AKA The Man) that has convinced us that different skin colors mean anything, that progress is usually not what it seems, and how the system is set up to bring us down and we let it happen every day. Preacherman returns to his themes of searching for love, even bringing back some of the lyrics from “That’s Good.”
This album is a mind trip, and one you need to take. It somehow combines synth-funk with Don Juan mysticism and it works.
Keep your mind open.
[I can feel you wanting to subscribe. Get on board!]
This year was not only the first time my wife and I traveled to France, it was also the first time we traveled to Levitation France in Angers – a mid-size town about one and a half hours by train southwest of Paris. It was the sixth year of the two-day festival and we’d wanted to go ever since we started attending Levitation Austinin 2013. The dates finally worked out this year, so we made the trip.
First, the festival is held in Le Quai – a great performance space venue in Angers along the Maine River. It has at least five performance areas in it, and the festival uses two of them for shows, two for food trucks, one for merchandise, and one for a bar.
That’s the outside of the venue in the main food truck area. Immediately inside that big open door is the main stage (called the “Forum”). We didn’t start there, however. We started in the smaller performance space (“T400”) at the back with French garage rockers Wild Fox.
Wild Fox
They were the first band on the first day, and they came to make a statement. They threw down wild energy that whipped up the early crowd, ending by kicking apart their drum set, playing with broken strings, and churning out plenty of good feedback.
I’ve heard a lot of good things about the new album from La Luz, so we checked out their set on the Forum stage. They had a good crowd, and their California sun-drenched psychedelia was a nice match for the sun coming in through the window behind them.
La Luz
We grabbed a bite from the food trucks (where I scored some tasty Senegalese food), and then headed toward the T400 stage to check out Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs. On the way there, we passed Holy Wave doing their soundcheck on the Forum stage. They were playing Interpol‘s “Untitled,” much to the delight of myself and a woman who came running from the back bar to cheer them.
Holy Wave playing Interpol.Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs
Pigs x 7 were so loud and heavy that we had to fade back a bit and leave their set early. I think my wife’s head was about to split open from the intensity. We caught Holy Wave‘s set. They’re another band I’ve wanted to see for a while, and they put on a nice set of Texas psych-rock and seemed to be having a great time.
Holy Wave not playing Interpol.
We then zipped back to the T400 stage to catch most of Prettiest Eyes‘ set. It was our favorite of the night. The electro-punk oddballs from Puerto Rico and Mexico put on a great show with crazy beats, boundless energy, and plenty of swagger. My wife picked up a button from their merchandise table afterwards. I need to get their latest album. John Dwyer of Thee Oh Sees said at Levitation Austinthis year that they’re one of his favorite bands. It’s easy to see why when you see them live.
Prettiest Eyes
We headed back to the Forum stage to see the Soft Moon. If you haven’t figured it out by now, the two stages are so close together, and the set times staggered so well, that you can see every band that plays over the course of the two days without trouble (and usually see their full sets). We saw the Soft Moon at our first Levitation Austin festival, back when it was still known as the Austin Psych Fest. It was good to see them again and get a hefty dose of industrial dark wave.
The Soft Moon
We ended the first night with the Blank Tapes, who my wife was keen on seeing after she checked out one of their videos. They have a nice, mellow sound that blends some folk with their psychedelia. My favorite song during the set was one the lead singer wrote to sing to his house plants (“Not marijuana…Regular plants.”).
The Blank Tapes
On day two, we got to Le Quai in time to see Bryan’s Magic Tears start the show. They played a nice set of psych-pop, but hunger won over on us and we headed to the food trucks for some crepes and a great Senegalese chicken sandwich.
Bryan’s Magic Tears
Go! Zilla were on the Forum stage immediately after them, and they provided some nice psychedelic dinner music for us.
Go! Zilla
The biggest surprise of the day, and possibly the whole festival, was the set by Flamingods. They put on a wild set of Middle Eastern, Afrobeat, and psychedelic music that had the members changing instruments so many times that I couldn’t keep track of whom mainly played what.
Flamingods
We then caught Juniore on the Forum stage. They’re an electro / post-punk three piece from France who put on a quirky, neat set with one of them wearing a silver mask the entire time. My wife said it reminded her of a Sleestak from Land of the Lost.
Juniore
We were keen on seeing MIENat the festival since we’d been at their premiere live gig at Levitation Austin earlier this year. They didn’t disappoint and are well in the groove after a lot of touring to support their debut album of dark psychedelia.
MIEN
Another fun surprise was the set by French electro duo Oktober Lieber. They were heavier than I’d expected and threw down some impressive industrial dance grooves.
Oktober Lieber
The rest of the night was full of electronic music for us. First was French musician Flavien Berger – a one-man show of techno beats, vocal effects, and synth work.
Flavien Berger
We ended the night, and our first Levitation France festival, with Radar Men from the Moon, who played nothing but synths, keyboards, and sequencers instead of their usual guitars and drums. It was a great, powerful set that made us run for the merchandise room and buy their first record.
Radar Men from the Moon
We’ll definitely go back, but I’m not sure it will be in the cards for next year. We loved the festival and Angers. Cross it off your bucket list, too.
Keep your mind open.
At Le Quai, the fire extinguishers apparently spray siracha.
I didn’t know how much I and the rest of the world needed queercore punk in this day and age until I heard Chicago’s Bev Rage and the Drinks‘ debut full-length album Cockeyed.
Launching out of the gate with wild punk riffs on “Why Won’t You Hate Me?” Ms. Rage and her bandmates thrown down the gauntlet to any other punk band thinking of releasing a record in 2018. “Mouth” is a fast, funny takedown of a lying lover whose lame excuses and dumb alibis become enjoyable farce. It’s appropriate that the follow-up is the thirty-second “Don’t Know Shit.”
“Short Shorts” and “Limp Wrist” are each under two minutes and still pack more punk squalor into them than an entire Ataris album. “Limp Wrist” is one of the best punk tracks of 2018.
A gay friend of mine heard “Bitter Old Queen” and declared it his “new theme song.” I think he meant it for past lovers, as Ms. Rage does because both of them are too busy having fun to be bitter. Ms. Rage’s former beau does nothing but complain and no longer wants to hit the town (“I want to go out for a walk, but that is too fucking hard…”), tempting her to push her man off a bridge and end the relentless bitching.
Mission accomplished on “Someone New,” in which Ms. Rage proudly declares she’s moved onto to someone better. Unfortunately, her new man is already looking for the “Next Best Thing” (hint: He won’t find it, judging by the angry guitar chords and wild rhythm section chaos this tune has in it.).
“I’m Having a Tryst with a Narcissist” is so damn clever that you can’t stop grinning throughout it. Ms. Rage is a witty lyricist, so be sure to pay attention to the words behind the distortion, bass thumps, and mosh pit beats. “Waffle House” is another great example of her storytelling, as Ms. Rage tells of falling asleep at a Waffle House and having a naughty dream about the waiter. The album ends with “Looking,” another verbal / musical smackdown / high heel boot stomp of a lover who can’t or won’t take the Nestea Plunge with Bev Rage.
This is one of the best punk albums I’ve heard all year. It’s full of squalling guitars, rough-edge drums, fuzzed-out bass, and more anger and sass than the green room at a Parisian fashion show. Don’t miss out on it.
Rising from the ashes of post-punk bands WALL and Beverly, Public Practice (Drew Citron – synths, bass, vocals, Vince McClelland – guitars, Scott Rosenthal – drums and programming, Sam York – vocals) have brought us a sharp EP – Distance Is a Mirror – in these weird times where truth and perception are openly warped by media, politicians, news pundits, the guy on the street corner, your drunk uncle, and everyone else it seems.
“Fate / Glory” starts out with jagged guitar and cocksure bass before York’s sultry, assured (and playfully weary, it seems) vocals saunter into the room. “Lies make lovers of us all,” she states. She’s right. Once we accept a lie, we’re all in bed together with it. I love the way the song ramps up in speed in the last third.
“Bad Girl(s)” is the band’s anthem / middle finger to misogynists. “I won’t play your game, I don’t need your shame,” she yells as McClelland pounds his guitar and Rosenthal taps out a near Morse code message on his hi-hat. McClelland’s guitar opening of “Foundation” reminds me of an anime theme song I can’t place. Citron’s bass on it reminds me of a Talking Heads riff I can’t place either. You can practically see York owning a stage as she struts across it to Rosenthal’s snappy beats on it. The crumbling house referred to in the track could be a metaphor for the country as a whole to a relationship from York’s past.
“Into the Ring” has another great groove that goes from stand-offish to a full sexy embrace when it kicks into gear. York sings about a sexy dalliance that resembles a battle she’s not sure she’s ready for. “We entered this fight, thinking we knew who was going to win,” she says, possibly also referring to the last presidential election. “No, you can’t it back now,” she repeats at one point, again obscuring the secret meaning of her lyrics.
I was crushed when WALL broke up before their first full album was released, but this EP is a great follow-up to that record.
