
Part of a trilogy, this is darkwave ambient music, quiet but with serrated edges on its drones. There’s nothing new agey about this ambient, which makes for uneasy listening with its buzzing and clanking amid the drones and a glacial pace of movement that oozes foreboding.

Yeah, the chiming guitars and chord progression of “Graveyard Girl” keep threatening to turn into “Money Changes Everything,” but that fits well with the ‘80s love on display throughout – usually much more synthpop, of course.
My neurotic downloading compulsion began with electronic music, so in the interests of linear chronology, it is only fitting that I begin with the artists that led me down this path of chronic gigabyte consumption.

In a sense Lucky is an album of love songs. But refreshingly these are love songs that aren’t narrow in scope and don’t rely on clichés.
Ultimately, this groundbreaking song (which is nonetheless deeply rooted in traditions) helps rewrite the mystery of love (and the more than love that is really part of love).

LARRY KIRWAN, the leader of Black 47, is no Toby Keith – he’s his diametrical opposite on the political spectrum – so this is no rah-rah “support our troops” tripe.

For the past week, I’ve been listening to this record almost obsessively, so I feel compelled to give it the full review treatment.

Hebb’s soft voice is as warm and charming as it was on “Sunny” back in ‘66, and the tasteful arrangements are smoothly authentic.

After listening to their great Escape from Dragon House practically every day for most of last summer, I wasn’t sure whether a new album could captivate as strongly, but after two plays this had its hooks in me.

The sound wasn’t the greatest, but playing in divey places fits their brand of scuzzy, lo-fi noise rock.