My Amazon Post
PRHs Ghost
location: Still in Lawrence, Kansas...
listening to: Crickets.
registered: 2001.10.25
Just spent a few minutes of state funded time submitting my review to Amazon.
Hope my cut and paste thingy works.
I can't remember what I called it...
Floating on a sea of overproduction, cut and paste recording and easy-to-swallow-barbiedoll music/marketing machines, there is David Baerwald and The New Folk Underground. This recording is the newest sonic masterpiece from Golden Globe Nominee David Baerwald. On "Here Comes the New Folk Underground" Mr. Baerwald and the NFU explore the sounds of America with forays into Folk, Gospel, R&B and blues. But this is no sleepy disc for background music or Cohen Brother's Soundtracks. Each song stands on its own as a story, a slice of life, needing no visual stimulation to bring it to life. This is music as it was meant to be...no additives, no preservatives. Here in the technopop wasteland stands a recording that sounds amazingly like a band playing together in a room, not jumping out of a Saturday Morning Sci-Fi cartoon. Sometimes gentle, other times venomous, the lyrics are a slug of hot coffee to awaken the listener from her top 40 hangover. I'll save you the comparison's to other musicians. Please, just go listen for yourself.
Talk to y'all later!
PRH
–--
Pitchfork. Crowbar. Clawhammer. Hot Tar.
Just spent a few minutes of state funded time submitting my review to Amazon.
Hope my cut and paste thingy works.
I can't remember what I called it...
Floating on a sea of overproduction, cut and paste recording and easy-to-swallow-barbiedoll music/marketing machines, there is David Baerwald and The New Folk Underground. This recording is the newest sonic masterpiece from Golden Globe Nominee David Baerwald. On "Here Comes the New Folk Underground" Mr. Baerwald and the NFU explore the sounds of America with forays into Folk, Gospel, R&B and blues. But this is no sleepy disc for background music or Cohen Brother's Soundtracks. Each song stands on its own as a story, a slice of life, needing no visual stimulation to bring it to life. This is music as it was meant to be...no additives, no preservatives. Here in the technopop wasteland stands a recording that sounds amazingly like a band playing together in a room, not jumping out of a Saturday Morning Sci-Fi cartoon. Sometimes gentle, other times venomous, the lyrics are a slug of hot coffee to awaken the listener from her top 40 hangover. I'll save you the comparison's to other musicians. Please, just go listen for yourself.
Talk to y'all later!
PRH
–--
Pitchfork. Crowbar. Clawhammer. Hot Tar.
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