Photo by John Soares
PAULA KELLEY
Kimchee Records
The Trouble with Success or How You Fit into the World
13 songs
Embrace Paula Kelley. She has earned this moment.
After spending time establishing her delicate voice with shoegazers The Drop Nineteens, and local indie outfits Hot Rod and Boy Wonder, Kelley debuted her solo self with 2001’s Nothing/ Everything. Her second album takes the shimmer of her debut and magnifies it, fusing space-age pop vocals with sassy hooks. And if it ended there The Trouble with Success would be brilliant enough. But Kelley doesn’t stop. Throw in some orchestral maneuvers and plenty of horn play and Kelley and the 38-member PK Orchestra dazzle with delectable pop magic.
Kelley’s got this engaging voice that takes over where Lisa Loeb labors and where the sound of Cardigans frontwoman Nina Perrson starts to lose its beauty. Flanked by The PK Orchestra string section on “Could There be Another World,” Kelley makes a depressing story sound promising with her enchanting echoes, while on “My Finest Hour,” Kelley explores a bouncier pop sound which yields similar results. Many albums fail to carry throughout without sagging somewhere along the way. The Trouble with Success doesn’t do that. Actually, it will have you begging for an encore. (Ryan Wood)
QUICK FIX
Lonesome Records
The Push
12 songs
The first Quick Fix CD captured the band’s live sound perfectly. Crank “Rampage” and a crystalline vision of Jake Zavracky screaming “Yeah!” over the din of a pentatonic riff comes to mind. The second Quick Fix CD was more song-oriented and melodic, but sometimes bordered on clichéd (see “Holiday”).
“The Push” seems to take both sides and improve on them both simultaneously. It’s more musically ambitious; they use the studio as a member of the band and not just to capture the band’s sound. The guitars are thicker; I hear acoustics in the mix and more adventurous guitar effect. The songs are better too; “Adrenaline Junkies” has to be the song of the year so far.
The closing track “Time to Say Goodnight,” is a microcosm of what Quick Fix has added to their already stellar live show: serious lyrics, a sense of song, great harmonies (kudos to new member Eric Barlow) and a majestic, understated approach to melodic guitar soloing. A stellar CD. (Glenwood)
THE WEISSTRONAUTS
Stereoriffic
Pete Weiss Presents the Weisstronauts Featuring “Spritely”
15 songs
What if JFK hadn’t been slain, and bands like The Raspberries and Big Star and The Ventures had unaccountably elbowed disco and punk out into left field? Then maybe an assemblage of pan-instrumental, feel-good, easy-to-swallow genre exercises would be tearing up the airwaves even as we speak. Well, wait no more for such a world, because we have the next best thing while we listen to this invaluable CD. Tell me Alex Chilton couldn’t have written “Fruity” and I’ll tickle your catastrophe. The CD is chock full of musical laffs (check out “Tawdry”) and folksy genre send-ups (“Spritely”) but it’s more than just a joke. The coda to “Cha Cha Ho” is heavenly; the riff and sock-o-delic middle eight from “Cranky” deserve a prize, and “Space Jaunty” is wretched excess at its most likable and listenable. Times are tough and this frivolous but musically sound assemblage is great ironic lounge music even for when you’re waiting for the Apocalyptic horse – and if hedonism rather than geopolitics is your bag, so much the better. You’ll dig this the most. It would make even Catullus gyrate like a toy boat caught out at sea in a wind grown wild with adult pain. (Francis DiMenno)
VARIOUS ARTISTS
Sleazegrinder Records
Cock ‘n’ Roll
26 songs
Let me say up front that I’m a Sleazegrinder fan. Sleazegrinder, for the cave-dwellers among you who may not know, is the closest thing our fair city has to Lester Bangs (if you said “Lester who?” stop reading and go do your homework, child), and he has put his money where his gonzo-rock-crit mouth is by unleashing this massive compilation of the sleaziest rock he could track down. And if you have to ask what, exactly, comprises sleazy rock, odds are good that this comp just ain’t for you. Okay, so only two of the 26 songs are by local bands – Rock City Crimewave’s Cramps-meet-The Gun Club “Jersey Devil” and Sugabomb’s “Speed Thrill,” which rocks just the way a song called “Speed Thrill” ought to rock, with kinda Runaways’ vocals to boot to add that bad-hot-rod-chick vibe. I could have lived without Porn Rock’s track, “Porn Star,” but it’ll get the yucks at your next party. And with 26 freakin’ songs on the disc, you can’t expect ’em all to be gems.
But most of them are.
Screw the local angle. Buy this because Sleazegrinder has found redemption through rock, and he is beckoning you to join him. (Tim Emswiler)
ERIK LINDGREN
Arf Arf
Sound on Sound: Ambitious Teenage Pop Rock 1973-’74
22 songs
Erik himself mentions his sound-on-sound demos from the early seventies in the same breath as the songs of Emitt Rhodes, former front-man for the LA psychedelic band as the Merry-Go-Round, and other influences also mentioned in the liner notes – solo Townshend, Brian Wilson, and Left-Banke style chamber rock – when not wholly obvious, are at least evident. If you are as ardent an aficionado of all of these, you will be well pleased. I myself am bound to admire the outright strangeness of these piano-driven pop-inflected finger exercises, enough to discount iffy vocals and sound quality and to focus instead on the considerable compositional ingenuity on display throughout. The songs are more than merely enjoyable and tunes like “Funny How You Treated My Friend,” “Searchin,” “Words Came Through,” “One Right Way to Win Me,” “The Leader,” and “Back Then” are downright swipe-worthy. Cynics might sneer at this unleashing of 79-plus minutes of 30-year-old juvenalia as self-indulgent at best – though admittedly, few egomaniacs would have waited until the 93rd release on their own label! (Francis DiMenno)
JEFFREY SIMMONS & THE SYMPTOMS
Sodapop
Almost… All The Way… Down
11 songs
Remember when Neil Young wasn’t some whacked out fogey doing third rate Preservation remakes? When The Beatles were all hopped up on LSD, singing about raccoons and walruses (walrusi?)? Jeffrey Simmons remembers. Not only does he remember, he remembers what was good about them and what was worth saving.
The music on his second disc – the first one to feature his band, The Symptoms – ebbs, flows and enters your brain like a drug. “Fill Your Glass,” “Unkind,” and “Broken Tire” hint at a beauty that Nico could have held on to, or the sad-dreaminess of a John Cale electric viola. Nate Bacon’s bass lines prove to be generations separated from the clodding, one-note thump of most of his peers, and Thomas Valicanti’s understated guitar work seems to weave in and out of the songs, reminiscent of a restrained Tom Verlaine.
This is pop genius we haven’t heard since Andy Partridge. (Amanda Nichols)
UNDO
Undomusic
Deux
7 songs
This is portentous synthesizer music with symphonic pretensions which, for all its bleak grandeur, it occasionally achieves, such as on the opening track “Ataraxia II,” which reminds me of OMD’s maleficent “Stanislow.” The longer, more ambitious “Moon Life” puts me in mind of the souls of the dead and dying who are longing to be expressed to heaven. It’s a bit like the sound you hear just before you wake up with a big knot on your head next to an empty nitrous oxide tank. Its companion piece, “Sun Life,” is both pacific and ominous, a tricky feat. As Abe Lincoln might say: “For those who like this sort of thing, this is the sort of thing they like.” (Francis DiMenno)
MY OWN WORST ENEMY
Elis Eil
No Guarantees
13 songs
Too often, between a first demo, a first EP, and a first full-length release, some intangible quality which helps to make a band great gets lost or misplaced in the mix. This happened to Throwing Muses and The Pixies. My Own Worst Enemy, on the other hand, has made the same transition with grace and aplomb. The older material is kickass as always: “Who Knew” is akin to “Roadrunner” fronted by a sloe-eyed chanteuse; “MIA” is like electroshock that makes you smarter. Delicately bleak and lovely ballads like “Why Not Beautiful,” “Pills and Pride,” and the superb “Late Show” vary the pace. “Poison” is a nascent classic with a desolately lively feel right up there with Human Switchboard; ditto the downright catchy dirge-cum-drunken-chantey “(I’m the One You Wanted) Not the One (You Got).” This isn’t a perfect CD, but even interesting experiments like the quaintly odd “Mr. Leatherboots,” overproduced declamations like “Throw It All Away” and the dynamic but misguided power-pop cover of “Never Talking to You” are ambitious efforts. And the CD’s craziest song, “Yearbook,” with its start and stop dynamic and inspired xylophone obbligatos, belongs on every college radio station playlist in the Western world. (Francis DiMenno)
EAT MY FUK
Bestial Onslaught Productions
Wet Slit And A Bottle Of Whiskey
15 songs
Hey, let’s all play “Spot The Influence.” Here are some hints: 1. The band’s name is from an album title by their chief inspiration (who, by the way, goes conspicuously uncredited); 2. Song titles include “Slit Lickin’ Scumbag,” “I Wanna Cum On You,” “Drink And Bleed,” and “Kneel Before My Cock”; 3. They mention toilets and Jim Beam a lot; 4. The artwork has lotsa porno clips and a naked woman vomiting; 5. The artist in question has been dead for ten years; 6. The band requested I get this because of my involvement with said guy pre-croak. (Although CDs are not assigned as such, I ended up with it anyway.)
If you guessed John Tesh, you lose. I’m gonna hafta disappoint these guys, but the fact is I don’t “get it” beyond their being a total parakeet act (albeit a fairly meticulous one). I guess they’ll track me down and throw feces at me now. If they needed validation that they’d properly absorbed the GG Allin “philosophy,” I can only respond that 1. GG didn’t spend this kinda money on production and packaging; 2. He could actually be very funny and ironic; 3. Some of his songs had melodies, emotive musicianship, and other subject matters; 4. He had a greater overall message than “I’m blatantly ripping someone else off,” and 5. Thus he’d probably, in fact, have hated this. Since I’ll probably have been murdered before the next issue comes out, I just wanna say, it’s been fun. (Joe Coughlin)
THE SKELS
Any Port In A Storm
12 songs
I first saw The Skels at the Linwood sharing a bill with The Kings of Nuthin’ (good friends of theirs) and was instantly hooked by these blue collar blokes playing a balls-out raucous mix of traditional Irish folk and modern rock. When this emerald gem of a CD landed in my hands, I couldn’t wait to check it out. On Any Port In A Storm, their first fully original outing, the lads from Jersey (armed with Boston bassist Henry Ryan) rip through a catalog of foot stomping, humorous and insightful songs that dare the listener to remain seated. Highlights include “Pauper’s Grave” and “Whiskey I’m A Slave.” However each stout-pounding tune will quench even the strongest thirst. Every meticulously crafted and wisely arranged track shows this rowdy band to be astute students of The Dubliners, The Clancy Brothers, Van Morrison, and The Pogues. Dynamics and energy abound. Aside from a marked resemblance to Shane MacGowan’s vocals, The Skels distance themselves from such similar artists as The Dropkick Murphys with sparser and sharper arrangements and lots of humor and sentiment. This is pub rock at its best. (Marc Friedman)
AVANT STRANGEL
Too Out There?
7 songs
A buncha boobs on The Noise message board started pickin’ on this guy one day because he also happens to be a fashion model, and they were makin’ fun of all the artsy photos on his site, so of course I got all huffy, saying he kept the music and fashion aspects of his site completely separate (which is true), and all that kinda fair-minded crap. The guy ended up responding to these posts in notably dignified fashion in the face of some wholly unnecessary abuse. A lotta bands have taken far lighter (and far more warranted) criticism out there, reacted with thermo-nuclear indignation, and had their bum-bums kissed in mass apology by the scenester collective. Oh yeah, the record. Some of the art-photos DO show up here (think bandannas, supernovas, angel wings, sunglasses, and a chiseled torso slathered with Vaseline), but they DO convey the kinda New-Age Lenny Kravitz thing Strangel seems to be going for. With a decidedly ’70s bent, it’s kinda like Jon Butcher Axis for the new millennium, but more pseudo-spiritual, less party-boy boogie. Okay, a LOT less. The total package (especially the lyrics) could be taken as a thoroughly corny, anti-hipster, guilty-pleasure throwback, or simply god-awful. Like most things I receive fitting these criteria, I have a soft spot for it, which means you probably won’t. (Joe Coughlin)
CONDITION BLUE
Day Job
Legends
8 songs
Condition Blue are quite adept at hiding the fact that they produce everything in-house. Think Black Sabbath instead of Fugazi, and you’ll get the point. In fact, I couldn’t help but think that my listening experience likely paralleled some suburban kid’s first reaction to Ozzy and Co. in the ’70s. They’re heavy, but I’d not categorize them as “metal,” per se.
They sing about girls and guns and star babies and a lot of things that I can’t decipher. Lots of harmonies upon harmonies upon harmonies, Brian May guitar stylings, and a tune (“Into The Sun”) that reminds me a lot of Deep Purple. The songs are long, but not annoying. It’s great stuff to crank while driving way too fast down some deserted stretch of highway. If it’s possible to have Dadaist rock (and no, that’s not music your dad really digs), then this is it. (Amanda Nichols)
WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE
Go To Hell
8 songs
This 3-piece has a remarkably full sound, full of crunchy guitars and butt-rumbling bass, not to mention the excellent sing/ screamo vocals. I just wonder if this band is this tight live, because if this CD is any indication, they are a force to be reckoned with. Powerhouse drumming propels the sometimes redundant riffage, and liberal blasts of feedback and screaming add much needed color. The second track “Everything Went Black” sounds like The Deftones but in a really good way. The riffs remind me a little of Meanwhile-era Helmet, and, at times, The Melvins. I like them. I’m going to have to see this band live. (Jesse Thomas)
TOKYO TRAMPS
Bound For Glory
10 songs
Here’s a novelty: no, not the porn flick described as “banned in Japan blowjob adventures”; rather, we have four earnest Berklee-trained Japanese musicians who essay to write and perform their own original picture perfect R&B; compositions and find, if not universal acclaim, a comfortable niche on the blues circuit. They mix in some boogie, some country, throw in some cowbells here and there, and now and again a southern-rock style solo. I swear, you could close your eyes and imagine it’s 1973 again. Of such stories are low-budget independent Hollywood features made. And the songs? Well, even an ethnomusicology student might admit that a steady diet of Alabama chain gang field recordings, howsoever odd and brilliant, eventually grows wearisome; occasionally he might want something less challenging. Less bluesy but more listenable. This might suit the bill. But then again, maybe not. The songs are good in the same way that Clapton is “good” – if you prefer a blandly stylized and somewhat slickly produced tour-de-force approach to a genre which largely originated with solo practitioners who specialized in low-down gutbucket expressiveness, then you’ll find much to like here. If not, then look elsewhere. (Francis DiMenno)
THE KNEE-HI’S
Love, The Knee-Hi’s
7 songs
This is the kind of disc that totally fucks with my reputation as a cranky old “if it ain’t heavy, it ain’t shit” curmudgeon, because I like the living heck out of this way-too-short (under 20 minutes) slice of happy, Go-Go’s-inflected pop cheeriness. Singer Robin Banks has one of those voices that it’s just impossible to hate – if you say you hated Belinda Carlisle’s voice back in the day, you’re either full of shit or you’re a terminal sociopath. Original? Well, maybe not. But the Knee-Hi’s throw enough different influences into the old musical blender to make them a wicked fun listen, and the musicologists among you can argue over the minutiae while regular folks like me just bob our heads happily and pray that our more metallic brethren and sistren don’t walk in unexpectedly.
The CD might have benefited from a different mix – the guitar, while played with extreme taste and coolness by Binky Rice, is too far up front, occasionally overpowering the vox. But the rhythm section of Heather Henderson on drums and Kate Williams on bass and vocals does exactly what a good pop rhythm section is supposed to do. Good, clean fun for all ages. (Tim Emswiler)
THE ANCHORMEN
Unstoppable Records
Nation of Interns
8 songs
I never liked the Circle Jerks, but even though The Anchormen singer Heath Row’s voice is a dead ringer for Keith Morris’, I kinda like their scrappy, jangly rock. Straightforward and tight with little room for soloing or tempo changes, Nation of Interns wisely zips through its eight tracks in 17 minutes. If given more time to meander, Row’s nasally voice, lyrics that read like paragraphs (and sometimes sound like them) and their relatively safe garage sound could easily become grating and predictable. But here they scoot past in just the right increments, and the backup vocal harmonies give the album a light, poppy vibe. That shiny happy feeling might stand in contrast to their tales of heartbreak, history, war and urban strife, but it’s hard to believe that despite their sometimes serious subject matter that The Anchormen wanna have anything but fun. (Mike Delano)
MICHAEL THIBODEAU
Egg Publishing
Raise High the Roof Beam
12 songs
Thibodeau can write a mean song and has conviction aplenty in his voice – almost too much, which verges on self-important. This is quickly forgiven by the very solid performances of his entire band and excellent songwriting. Highlights include “Another Long Night” and “No Stranger,” featuring a warm organ and a classic Rhodes solo – just made me feel like hangin’ at a smoky bar somewhere down South. The only real clunker on the disc is “Stoney Creek,” a solo acoustic number that simply doesn’t rise to the level of the others. If you dig Tom Waits, check this out. (Shady)
MEAGHAN McLAUGHLIN
Press Records
More Stories For Dana
10 songs
Well, this clinches it. I’m officially disqualified from reviewing anything ever again. I shoulda known a while ago. See, this is exactly the kinda record this magazine was founded upon, almost like a Hipster Handbook. But me and the hipsters never got along. It’s so “what it is,” that it almost isn’t. The cover’s a black and white photo of a drink, a pack o’ smokes, and a notebook. The title might refer to some insider legend I should know about, but I’m unaware of any Previous Stories For Dana. The music is that kinda loping, jittery, scattershot stuff that flits around between Throwing Muses and Come, but without the extreme highs or lows of those acts. The approach comes off as equal parts tortured-artist and approachable-drunk. Titles and lyrics obsess about stuff that needs fixing (“Racked,” “Bitter,” Wreckingball,” “I’m Leaking”). The artist is something of a local institution, and rightly so, having played in several acclaimed acts as well as the solo dealie, and comes complete with the requisite facial piercings and malnourished, Collector Scum fanbase. And this’ll end up in more readers’ personal Top Tens this year than maybe any other local record. But despite its moments, it sounds to me like some kinda contractual-obligation-filler record. Except there’s no contract. Or maybe I just have to live in Allston to appreciate it. That ain’t gonna happen. (Joe Coughlin)
SUPER-CANNES
Transfersational
9 songs
Members of Little A, currently on hiatus, Danny Lee (drums and grooves) and David Kirkdorffer (unguitar and space) comprise this dazzling dance duo. Trans-fersational is a collection of nine mind expanding live techno (if that isn’t an oxymoron) instrumentals (think Four Tet, but without the Acid loops). Furthermore, the CD is a testament to Lee and Kirkdorffer’s artistry in that only these two musicians generate such a full and lush yet spacious sound. Johnny Marr’s production on The The’s Mind Bomb comes to mind. “One Dead Soldier” has both an undeniable groove and a killer gut-grabbing riff while “Channel System” sports inventive Fripp/ Belew (Discipline era) inspired guitar lines. “Velocity” and “Carnival of Souls” both lull and pulse with an atmospheric trip hop feel. “Velocity” showcases Lee’s drumming with its jazzier, almost bebop, feel while “Carnival of Souls” hits more like a Jean Michele Jarre or Tangerine Dream soundscape. The CD’s sound quality will not satisfy audiophiles, but considering that this set was originally a cassette concert recording later to be enhanced (and edited) by David Westner at Woolly Mammoth Studios, it will more than satisfy the average and above average listener alike. (Marc Friedman)
MISTER VERTIGO
Wintermusik
12 songs
Sometimes I get records from this magazine that are so good, they’re all I think about for months. It’s a great, redemptive feeling. Other times, I get these awkward-ass, Mickey Mouse screw-jobs that are so discouraging, I can barely leave the house or look people in the eye. But occasionally, I get something so middling, so static, so thoroughly ineffectual, that I sit and stare at the linoleum, waiting to feel anything. And it’s hard, because they arrive with these enthusiastic, handwritten notes from some kid who’s just sunk a whole buncha dough into the thing, is understandably thrilled to death with the accomplishment, invariably gushing stuff like, “We sure would appreciate a review!” And I sense that these are perfectly good (if not wonderful) people, and I’m tempted to pass it along to someone less finicky, but then I have to lecture myself on ethics and honesty, so I play it again, thinking I must have missed something, and I didn’t, because it’s more of that light-hearted, quavering, alt-sappy Gin Blossoms fluff, and I try to ignore the opening track of incoherent whispering and the unreasonably pointless cover art, and then I’m annoyed for not trusting my instincts, and I’m forced to conclude that this brand of inescapable, “please the masses,” post-whatever stuff is actually part of an enormous, sinister plot between Satan and the government to keep us all stupid. (Joe Coughlin)
SATAN’S TEARDOPS
Spindrift Records
Set em Up and Knock em Down
14 songs
The Amazing Royal Crowns by route of Black Flag. Satan’s Teardrops have a chokehold on that rockabilly-cum-punk sound that was all the rage back in ’98. Not that I don’t like this CD, because it’s well-recorded, the songs are strong, the vocals are exciting in a Elvis impersonator type of way; it’s just the fact that this music has been done to death, it was old after the Stray Cats. And while Elvis never said motherfucker in any of his songs, he never really had to, and what I hear here is a band desperately trying to carve their initials into an established (if not beaten to death) medium. (Jesse Thomas)
BIEN
Dualsix Records
Eleven
11 songs
This must be some new kinda music. Imagine a young, inner-city gent of specific ethnicity talking in monotone over loops of music and synthetic beats, whose lyrics all rhyme to a steady meter. Sometimes, his friends pop in for a line here or chorus there, if you can call it a chorus. The subject matter leans heavily (okay, endlessly) toward the finest details of the guy’s personal life and habits. What he wears, where he went, who he talked to, why he’s all this, that, and the other thing, with references to criminal activity, romance and world harmony, and how it all relates to his, um, singular urban experience. Say, this kid’s really onto something. I’m surprised there aren’t about five billion copycat records like this out there already. Seriously, folks, I’m the wrong guy (in the wrong magazine) for this one. I’ve got three rap records in my whole collection, and they’re all from 1987. As these things go, though, I can say with assurance that two tracks (“Piranha” and “Chlorine”) especially stand out. I’d actually turn up the radio if they came on, which is more than I can say for almost everything of the genre that I hear. So if you like the stuff, this must be a pretty good one if I can stand it. I guess I own four rap records now. (Joe Coughlin)
THE CLASSIC BURGLARS
Creature Feature
11 songs
This disc is aptly named. I listened to this before I went to bed one rainy night and I had some serious nightmares. Written and recorded in just two hours, this bizarre, almost free-form exploration of musical ideas both good and bad are laid out for all to hear. There is no attempt to cover up any mistakes or any production values added for little virginal ears. What you get are the nonsensical ranting and wailing of some warped minds. It’s not exemplary or horrendous, it simply is. Keep small children and animals far away from The Classic Burglars – in fact keep everyone away from them. (Shady)
HOOTMAGNUM
Trucker Rock
12 songs
Hootmagnum’s bio states that their influences are the “grunge scenes of the early ’90s” and the painfully off-key Cobain/ Vedder wannabe vocals couldn’t make it clearer. “Addict,” with its alternative sounding guitar (think Blur’s “Song 2”), distorted vocals and succinct Creedence-like guitar solo, kicks off the CD. The above-mentioned issues along with plodding drums, utilitarian bass and banal lyrics quickly dash the promise of the song, as well as the rest of the disc. Some standout tracks, however, include “Dead Animal (in the wall)” (which has the exact same riff as NTBA!’s “ConAgg”), the Helmet inspired “A.W. Confusion Maker” and the “Consolation Prize” with its tight groove and listen-able lyrics. Conversely “Stik It” boasts an over the top Cobain-esque imitation, a tacky chorus and an embarrassing guitar solo. The clumsy transition from bare intro to full band assault in “Resolved” would have benefited from distorted guitars while the mismatched tempo from intro to song in “Sponge” is a blaring and painful oversight by the band. On the whole, Trucker Rock is a promising debut with hints of originality and room for growth, but isn’t a CD that should be used to showcase the band. (Marc Friedman)
BARN
Your Summer Dress Bored Me
7 songs
So this is what it sounds like when a “hysterical thrash band” member and a “guitarist turned drummer” team up and record the remnants of music made of jamming and boogie woogie-ing on a smoky summer night on the porch – somewhere along the lines of folk pop rock stuffed with bland, airy vocals and romantic references. Think Dave Matthews Band. Nonsensical lyrics about girls/ summer/ romance, sing-a-long-esque melodies, and plenty of strumming is reminiscent of Pete Yorn and Ryan Adams, but lacking the cohesive whole of both. Simply put, this album lacks something. The “something” doesn’t have to be original or new, it just has to add spark to songs that are a bit clichéd. On the surface, Barn’s concept and talent is rather refreshing but the music is just so bland that it doesn’t even make it to “bad.” Whereas some calm music soothes, Barn’s album is so calm it bores. (Xiaowei Wang)
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