NO RESPECTS! These are the first words discernable from the disembodied diatribe, but the personality behind them was perfectly clear when the first slurred syllable pushed out of the PA. The voice emanates vaguely from a stage semi-populated by tight-lipped musicians behind a spot-lit empty platform, but its presence is physical. People look, grin, cheer […]
Re-Mit isn’t a breakthrough by anyone’s standards, but it’s something. It’s another book in the bible of The Fall.
Moody. Dark. Poetry in troublingly fluid and interrupted motion. One of the singles of 2012, no doubt.
The fantasy world that David Thomas inhabits reeks of privilege and conceit. Perhaps I expected a bit more intelligence, a bit more individuality, a bit more adventurousness to his thinking. Then again, he is a white middle-class American male. We can’t expect too much.
I am afraid of Uncle Mark. Blatantly inebriated, this pixie-faced old man roams the stage like an imperious foreman.
Visions seduces me a little more, yet at the same time, I know I will never truly love it
Robert Pollard’s language is a universe that is both abstract and familiar, a poetry informed by gray skies and basements, used cars and starch.
a reprint of a review of the last Fall album, because I’m tired, and someone mentioned it on Facebook
In comic book terms, this would be called the second Silver Age of The Fall, or something.
Proper blues music is simple, heartfelt songs about real and universal experiences — blokes and lasses singing about the letter they just received, the bottle of whisky they just downed and gave them a sore head, or the lover who just left them.
I was quite proud of my performance the other night at The Zoo.