When I go off the rails, I don’t gently come to a stop a few feet from the tracks. I barrel wildly through the trees, across the river, down the valley, and over into the next county. It takes 3 forklifts, 5 Clydesdales, the local high school football team, and a network of NSA satellites to get me back to where I once belonged.
Time to get the iron horse rolling again. A little coal on the fire to stoke the desire and …
Let’s round ’em up.
If you like the idea of Coldplay crossed with early Elton John, then you’re about to become the newest member of the Tom Odell Fan Club.
I like the singles, but love the album tracks. Here’s two:
Don’t let the cover frighten you. Mother Feather are not a doom-laden goth band or a troupe of vampire circus performers. They just wanna rock you like you know you wanna be rocked.
Don’t let the title frighten you. This is not an electronic exploration of the journey from cradle to grave, but rather an electronic explosion of sexy sonics.
Hop into the back of the groove-mobile, and let Beaty Heart take the wheel.
Clark has quietly built one of the strongest songwriting catalogs in country music. But that’s the only thing quiet about her as she tears through her latest album with absolute confidence and power.
Let’s kick it.