Artist: Midsummer
Album:
Moon Shadow
Released:
May 30, 2007
Label: IODA
Verdict:
Dreamy summer mood music
Summer often waxes slow and
philosophic, and sometimes our music should too. Hence the
warm and relaxed Midsummer, a supremely “moody” band, and
while they might not set your speakers on fire their music
is certainly well-suited to working, reading, making out
or any number of daily intellectual pursuits. Just don’t try
driving to it, lest falling asleep at the wheel become a
distinct possibility.
When it
comes to dream-pop, an accomplished shoegazer band is like a
good roofer or electrician — when you find one, stick with
it. Moon Shadow is Midsummer’s third release, and
given the skimpy length of the group’s LPs (four or five
songs, 30 minutes or thereabouts), it only makes sense to
mention their two previous records, 2003’s This Ageless
Night and 1999's Catch and Blur. Each is
praiseworthy in its own right and deserving of a few
precious downloads. But Moon Shadow is easily the
cream of the three — a complex and haunting journey up and
down the musical scale, plus a touch of electricity here and
there to keep the listener honest. The four songs are titled
I-IV, as befits a single extended suite, and before you
dismiss this move as sheer pomposity I should point out that
Midsummer does indeed manage to maintain the same pensive
and reflective mood over the record’s entire 31 minutes. No
small feat, that. Heck, in my book the band gets extra
points just for daring to offer two eight-minute tracks,
plus one clocking in at a whopping nine minutes (a welcome
throwback for us old-school prog-rock mavens). Indeed, it’s
only fitting that the nine-minute “Part II” should yield
Moon Shadow’s finest moment — a revolving acoustic solo
as brisk and refreshing as a cool summer swim.
 |
Artist:
Single Gun Theory
Album:
Flow, River of My Soul
Released:
1994
Label: IRS
Verdict:
Hello New Age; Bye-Bye Reputation
Full disclosure: What little street
cred this reviewer might still possess is about to suffer a
major hit, perhaps an irreparable one. Flow, River of My
Soul is without a doubt the most unabashedly feminine
record I own, but it’s also the most musically embarrassing,
practically bordering on New Age with its faux-spiritual
“sensitivity” and comically overwrought sense of “the self.”
Fraught with simulated paranormal encounters, dime-store
psychoanalysis and other laughable “world music”
mumbo-jumbo, by all rights this jazzy, sample-heavy exercise
in shameless self-pretension has absolutely no place in an
otherwise respectable and obscure collection. And yet like
that one bucking bronco that helps keep an old ranch hand
sharp, I’m not at all confident I could get by without it.
“Fall” was
a minor alterna-hit back in ’94, and the song garnered
enough repeat airplay on local college radio to reel me in
with its ritual African-style melodies and sampled
Twilight Zone dialogue (from the episode “The Silence,”
if anyone’s interested). Much of Flow follows in a
similar vein, featuring sampled left-field commentary on
human relationships, self-improvement and the manifold
sensible reasons to abjure nuclear Armageddon. But what
shocks the listener about this record, and renders it wholly
worthwhile in the bargain, is the crushing romantic anguish
infusing such songs as “Motherland” or “My Estranged Wife”:
“And I know I’ll never laugh again on a Sunday/I know I’ll
never dance again. …” Gee, rip my goddamn heart out, why
don’t you! Granted the metaphysical tomfoolery elsewhere on
this CD can get a bit taxing — one entire song consists of a
reenacted ghost sighting, of all things — but such vivid
emotional suffering well makes up for it, earning the
touchy-feely Flow an awkward spot on my shelf amid
its far more muscular and decidedly non-New Age musical
brethren.
Marc Stephens is a
Web consultant by day, writer by night.
Comments?
E-mail letters@miamisunpost.com.
