Took a week off to recharge my batteries. Now that I’m fully electrified let’s zap the tree and see what shakes loose.
Ripe. Juicy. Delectable. Let’s round ’em up.
Ummm. Yeah. I don’t understand what’s going on here at all but this is one of my favorite albums of the year so far. And it’s only 15 minutes long. But it contains 15 songs. 15 one-minute songs.
Whack raps like Missy Elliott or Kendrick Lamar, in that she is unafraid to change her voice, her flow, her anything to suit the song. She’s twisted, she’s funny, and the only problem with this album is that it’s 45 minutes too short.
Here’s the whole thing:
Springsteen meets Southern rock on this live album of The Weeks playing all their best from their 10-year history. Tight when it needs to be, and ragged in all the right places. Sometimes live is the best way to hear it.
This is not what Natalie sounded like on her previous album. Not at all. She takes her 60’s soul leanings and explodes with bright funk and poppy R&B. The new surroundings fit her like a glove.
Like a less slick Teenage Fanclub, or a relaxed Sloan. Power poppin’.