So far, this has been a depressing year for lovers of music and its magical history. Not only did we lose Bowie, Glenn Frey, and Lemmy from Motorhead, we’ve also said goodbye to Maurice White from Earth, Wind & Fire, Signe Anderson and Paul Kantner from Jefferson Airplane, Dan Hicks from Dan Hicks & His Hot Licks, and on the non-musician front, Giorgio Gomelsky, an integral part of the early British blues-rock scene. And we’re only one week into February.
What’s to be done? All we can do is raise a glass, toast the past, turn up the music, and dance, dance, dance. Because that’s why all those groovy cats made the music in the first place.
So let’s celebrate. Let’s round ’em up.
It’s been a pretty steady pattern for decades now that music goes in 20 year cycles — the 70s saw a 50s revival, the 90s celebrated the 70s, etcetera and so forth. No surprise then when the synth-heavy 80s came back in the 00s. What has proved unusual is that the music didn’t go away, but rather increased its influence to the point where it’s one of the most popular genres around.
Anyway, that’s where St. Lucia comes in. They are the time machine.
Siblings are doin’ it for themselves. A rockin’ and rollin’ mix of old school, new school, no bull country.
This occasionally plays like Stevie Wonder’s backing vocalists over an 8-bit computer soundtrack with a little Casio drum machine.
Sounds like a throwback while also sounding utterly unique. Beautiful slow grooves with lush harmonies.
Alright, so I really should have written about this group when I found them 6 months ago, but their album was only just released in the US last week so I’m cheating a little and counting this as a 2016 release.
If you miss Jeff Buckley, or Radiohead’s accessible 90s albums, or you want a less bombastic Muse, or if you dig Arctic Monkeys, it would behoove you to listen to this album immediately.
Need a quote for the record jacket? “Instant classic.”