There’s a breathtaking quality to these songs, a sort of wonder that only comes when a band is more concerned with aesthetics than academics.
Book of Canada is a fine album and it shows Fonograph at their best.
The sort of disposable cheese that gives disposable, cheesy films a good name.
Maduro’s music has plenty of room for development, but this EP proves he’s got a solid foundation.
This is country-folk music fresh from the fields, still crusted in dirt and sweat from a day’s hard work.
I’ve listened to this CD many times, hoping to discover something that would make it all click, but to no avail.
Josh Ritter reminds me of that shard of a real person I might have been when I wasn’t trying to be cool.
So completely over the top that it’s nearly an assault, one that makes this nearly 3 hour long movie speed along at a breakneck pace.
The title track blends acoustic guitars, turntables, Middle Eastern flutes, and fragile female vocals in a dark, hypnotic manner.
It’s a beautiful work, glittering with ice and chilly atmospheres.
They’ve really created a beautiful piece here that manages to be sparse and minimal while remaining emotional and moving.
Each unnamed track is slow and purposeful, solid and often quite beautiful.
It’s good stuff, but it ain’t worth $80.
Low plays each song in a very deliberate manner, as if each song survives from one chord or brushstroke to the next.
A movie about the wonder and mystery of movies, as played out in the life of one man.
It’s a wonder we ever survived the Cold War.
I swear, this movie has some of the most innovative ways to kill people I’ve ever seen in a kung fu film.