Baby, it’s coooold outside. I don’t know where you are, but it’s below zero here in my neck of the woods. What’s up with that, neck? Ernest Shackleton showed up for five minutes this morning, turned his ship around and said, “I’m outta here.” Polar bears are heading to the local Wal-Mart for sweaters. Scientists are extracting DNA from the frozen ground in order to resurrect the woolly mammoth.
Say, what’s in this drink?
Let’s round ’em up.
Mid-60’s Dylan meets early-70’s Bowie for a night out on the tiles.
Sweet and melancholy indie synth-pop refreshes like a dip in an upside down lake.
They continue to hone their widescreen, technicolor pop-rock and deliver their strongest album yet. The scenery changes quickly, so try to keep up.
You could be forgiven for thinking this album is a lost artifact from 1969. Whereas most artists pay tribute to the teen pop and rock of the 60’s, The Yearning take a page from the adult pop songbook, channeling Bacharach, Sergio Mendes, Getz/Gilberto and a host of others.
The Yearning are not so much a band as a time machine. Get on board.