Few records made in the ’90s can get this or more emotional.
One of those rare cases where you can call a record repetitive and mean it as a compliment.
Here’s an album so devoid of any sense of triumph or victory. It’s as spartan and sparse as they come.
In short, this album, though still an import, is worth every single penny and is one of 2000’s classics.
Jeff Buckley didn’t belong in anything so small as a rock band.
A very consistent album, but that consistency keeps me from digging into this album.
Remember that studio-based, diva-riddled dance music that was so prevalent in the early ’90s?
Sounding at times like Radiohead, Stone Temple Pilots, John Coltrane, Frank Zappa, John Cage, and Steely Dan, this album is a sonic treat.
Reverse doesn’t actually live up to most, if not all of their grandiose statements.
This an album that speaks of freedom, but also is brave enough to declare that one must venture through darkness and madness to achieve it.
Songs like these belong in movies at those pivotal scenes when someone has a religious experience, when long-lost lovers are finally reunited, or when someone is brought back from the brink of death.
To say that Chernoff’s vocals and lyrics are an acquired taste is an understatement.
Radiohead temper their worldview with what at least seems to be a very real sense of hope.
Intricate, lush music that’s highly recommended for Starflyer 59 fans.
This record could be considered the one that helped Brit-pop be what it has been, in my humble opinion.
Bamboo Grove’s music falls squarely into that style of melodic, groove-oriented pop that’s normally reserved for the likes of the Dave Matthews Band.
Play any of these songs for someone and tell them it’s a long-lost Autechre b-side and they’d probably believe you.
Rough around the edges and in need of some healthy polishing, but with plenty of beauty still shining through.
Solid pop songs that can be driving and punchy, but also atmospheric and jangly.