That's My Dad. |
Whenever I believe something is fantastic by any means, I instinctively subtitle it as "That's My Dad", since dads are a given synonym for fantastic. Albeit not every father is great, on this website we'll live in our fantasies where everyone's dad goes fishing with you, takes you to strip clubs, concerts and manages to impress your friends with his 96' Impala. That's My Dad: A collection of all things considered, neglected and popularized. |
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Young the Giant - Young the Giant
To be perfectly honest, I’m a little too young to be a full-fledged music snob. At my age (being that I am 17), there can sometimes be room for contrived rock music. Sure, it might only be good for background music or for your run-of-the-mill, adolescent “indie” soundtrack. And yes, no matter how hard you try, this record this devoid of any true personality. Yet, criticizing a band like Young the Giant would be the social equivalent of punching a stranger who compliments your outfit in the face. Young the Giant is a pleasant, straight-forward indie rock routine that doesn’t necessarily go outside the box, but resonates with an indulgent and theatrical level of emotion. Upon every listen, lead singer Sameer Gadhia charms us over with captivating hooks and choruses. I can’t despise Young the Giant for standing by its basic rock elements because the end result something like a box of Fruit Loops: bad for you, yet hopelessly enjoyable. (8/10)
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Psychedelic rock: the open canvas of sonic creativity.
Alaskan outfit Portugal. the Man have certainly built a name for themselves within their own genre and have now created a new gloss on their successful formula with In the Mountain In the Cloud. Exploring this album is the equivalent to driving a light purple hearse on a road straight to a star millions of miles away; the rush of the feeling is delectable yet the vertical ride becomes repetitive over the passing time.
Portugal. the Man certainly knows its talents and precisely how to show them off through eccentric compositions and a bundle of well-crafted hooks that offer heaps of delicious verve. The lovely thing about this record, more so this artist, is how well they embrace psychedelic rock and fully load their sound on this beautiful openness the formula thrives on. The beauty of indulging in narcotics and laying on the hood of your car with your significant other under a magnificent sky is here and you are more than welcome to lose yourself.
Portugal. the Man’s lyrical themes and attitudes haven’t changed all too much from previous releases since the desire to mess with a good thing isn’t always prevalent. The shame here is that even within this album, those elements wear themselves out and become noticeably repetitive. As one treks through the album, the feel of it grows weary and progressively recurrent. Although there are sharp and memorable moments bringing us back for more, the variety is too sparing to deem In the Mountain In the Cloud an exceptional album. It all just comes off as a great one-trick magician with not much else left to pull out of his sleeves.
In the Mountain In the Cloud is a vast work of energetic and thoughtfully orchestrated joy. One of the most under-rated aspects of this album are its usage of strings, a perfect and tasteful addition that accents plenty of hooks and give it a successfully bigger feel. These guys give their sounds the sky to dwell in, but their thoughts have their feet on the ground, desperate to breathe in more atmospheres.
This album was close to my dad, something like a cool uncle.
(Album courtesy of Atlantic Records)
