I admire Peter Gabriel's artistic vision and achievements very much, but his debut solo album is a huge scrambling mess saved only by the excellent 'Solsbury Hill' and the mysterious 'Here Comes the Flood' (one of my favorite songs).
It's a shame Morten Harket didn't utilize the wide range of his voice more often because it too often sounds like any other eighties synth-pop ensemble's singer. But the band's dramatic debut album makes for very melodic and intriguing music.
Musicianship is excellent, but there isn't quite enough variety to make this so memorable for me.
Interesting listen with diverse sonics unfolding every which way.
Misogynistic and violent, but such is the way of the streets. The death obsession is appropriate. Good record.
As everyone says, this record is like a swamp which isn't really a place I'd like two dwell in. The hits are the hits and the rest goes on, overlong.
Beautiful album that only really lags towards the end; overall, a strong swansong for a good group. Favorites: 'So Long, Frank Lloyd Wright' and 'The Boxer'
Surprisingly dynamic record for a new wave group; songs are diverse and arrangements are interesting with prominent conga and sax action all throughout.
Sleek soul from the 80s - didn't really dig it, 'tho it all sounds good.
I listened to this one twice, entranced by its odd allure. Stand-out/favorite track: 'Jerdacuttup Man'
To my ears, this album is nothing much but a noisy clatter of aggression and repetition. Fortunately, Iggy's later stuff really rocks.
While Dylan's use of a dusty open-E tuning on the acoustic numbers tends to make those songs sound very similar, this album serves as a strong and surprisingly diverse comeback album for Mr. Dylan in the middle of a decade in which he hadn't released new music for awhile. It's not a perfect record; the back-to-back tracks 6 and 7 don't really fit in with the rest of the bunch. If those were removed, the album would better cohere and never feel overlong. For the most part on this record, Dylan's lyrics turn inward to discuss his difficult dealings with his lady. His tumbledown voice quite effectively evokes the appropriate emotions. Favorite tracks: 'You're A Big Girl Now' and 'Idiot Wind' 4/5
Bursting with an abundance of ideas, Queen delivers a diverse and overloaded twelve-track album that hits on hard-rock, soft-pop, music hall, suite-style composition, and some dazzling delay-like effects. While the band's off-the-wall oddities are most closely akin to the music of Sparks, this record is really, really good on its own terms. It's also refreshing to hear Roger Taylor and Brian May sing lead on a few tracks. Favorites: "Death On Two Legs (Dedicated To...)" and "'39"
Thoroughly decent album, although the oft-employed bad-boy voice can start to grate on the ears after awhile. Favorites: 'Dirty Diana' and 'Smooth Criminal'
The titular track ‘Future Days’ serves as an optimistic opener. The song sails to shore amid slurpy water and warbling wind for two minutes; an ocean-liner organ honks and all the sounds shift into a breezy beat upon reaching the beach. Busily building tension, the band doesn’t drop the volleyball; each instrument skillfully serves the sound and keeps aloft the ambience. Sandpaper percussion scrapes away endlessly; guitar goes again-n-again high and harmonic; onion-y organ peals colorful chords, layered; bass only occasionally underlines a downbeat. Birds chirp and a man mumbles atop this noisy bop. Few words can be discerned; but the one for-sure phrase, for the sake of future days, attached as it is to its hummable lilt, makes for an auspicious and very memorable message. The song jives in its stratified structure, so delicate in its development. Every man jams and no one leads; but everything flows together consistently like a moving amoeba for the entire ten-minutes of tune. The big finish final minute turns into a total trance, the listener likely under the influence of fantasy for the future days. ‘Spray’ starts off burbling and bursting with watery horrid chords. The song swims away as if stalked by prey, the pace quick and panicked. The mad mood persists throughout the piece, repetitive but relentless. Despite the drone, every sudden sound startles. Crash, bump, boo! As principle propeller of the piece, the cymbals are sharp and assertive here. Bongos bonk. Dark guitars reach out of their trench, threateningly. Organ tones blow bubbles and pop. As before, the band spreads out their idiosyncratic organic jam all over the song. Indeed, the Can just can’t contain the jam. Every instrument manages to maintain interesting textural intricacy in an utterly minimalistic manner. The track eventually calms down long enough to settle into a subdued groove for the final few minutes. Words are heard with no chance to be understood. Muttered and mixed low, the lyrics are as mysterious as the deepest sea. In its mere three minutes, fast-blast ‘Moonshake’ proves that Can could be both an always-open “Can of Jam” as well as an effervescing “Pop Can”. The track shudders under a taut beat. Right from the get-go, grossly low ghost tones quaver as if plucked on a rubber band while a groovy guitar cuts a couple chords and the keys keep to a quiet variety. Supplemental percussion reverberates with the brisk beat. The muddled melody bobs along using more choice words of obscurity. Cue keyboard “solo”: the song proceeds through a passage of electronic fiddle-diddle, a sequence of bizarre beeps and squeaks, sweeps and scratches. Although out of touch with the epic and impressionistic pieces found on the rest of the album, ‘Moonshake’ is a dandy danceable tune in its own right. Big ‘Bel Air’ begins with floaty tones, guitar predominating with some sunny chords as flutes and synths move melodically and squeaky bass plays all over the place. Busy drums begin to boogie. If ‘Future Days’ stays on the earthen beach and ‘Spray’ takes a plunge into deep waters, then ‘Bel Air’ ascends into the skies. Welcome to a new world: more mumbly words likely describe the cosmic majesty of this mysterious world from on high, but who can tell? On and up the music moves at will with no impediments to its progress. Chords descend again and again in mesmerizing patterns. The elevation changes. The song passes through clouds and comes into open airs, next sections, a touch of turbulence. The tune travels around different sides of the sky. Everything changes, but still, nothing changes. In this static way, the music is more like visual art; the song experience may be compared to the way a viewer’s eye gazes freely around the contents of a canvas to discern details. It’s all there at once, but the subtle shades of color make the masterpiece. A song is a song, and ‘Bel Air’ is a guided tour of course; but unlike other songs, this one has no definite direction—it chooses to cruise uncompromisingly through its own noble domain. In its middle, the song settles down back to the ground (hear the birds, hear the bugs) only to start the lift-off all over again with a few new mellower melodies included in the mix, all as bewitching as before. If “bel air” is to be translated from French and understood as “beautiful air”, then this track’s title couldn’t be more truthful. As a product of 1973, Future Days predates ambient music. But in keeping with its forward-looking title, the album managed to defy time with its own utterly unique brand of texture-jam. The attention is on the atmosphere alone. The climate is very cool. Don’t wait for a future day to hear this album.
Nice arrangements and tasteful playing, but it all blends together.
Dennis was the most soulful and moodiest of the Beach Boys. His compositions and voice are hard and feely, sensitive things. The songs on this album are dramatic and expressive and bound to stir your emotions up at least once. To my ears, 'Farewell My Friend' is the most moving.
Slow, spacey, sleep-inducing. I listened to this on a late night drive and I don't remember anything about it except that I took a little interest in track 8, 'Round the Bend'. However, that's just because of its atmospheric similarity to Nick Drake's 'River Man'. I'll have to revisit this, but for now I can only award it a two.
Punky Patti has a pretty keen poetic vision that translates loudly and proudly on her debut produced by the great John Cale. I prefer the more structured bits over the long two-chord rambles.
The Band chose the best name ever for any band. They truly deserved it. Here was a group of musicians who could effortlessly construct the tightest yet loosest tunes I've ever heard. Everyone in the group can shine without overshadowing the other. There's tremendous talent and no showing-off. It's incredibly tasteful and always very musical. The wide styles and three singers make for a diverse set of songs on this self-titled second album released in 1969. Fantastic record! Favorite track: 'Whispering Pines' and 'King Harvest' (or really anything on Side 2).
Hot and nasty and thoroughly enjoyable!
It's a shame Morten Harket didn't utilize the wide range of his voice more often because it too often sounds like any other eighties synth-pop ensemble's singer. But the band's dramatic debut album makes for very melodic and intriguing music.
It all sounds like a set of poorly-recorded random Indian pop music, but I liked it!
I'm a sure fan of Richard Thompson's guitar and songwriting.
I've visited this album many times over the years, but I tend to stick with the first two tracks (which are wonderfully executed examples of tasteful minimalist rock). The rest of the record doesn't cut it for me: I could do without the weird, silly hippy whispering in 'Leb'Wohl'. The rocker tracks on side two are a bit bland (even though they inspired David Bowie to write his \"Heroes\" album).
We all know the very moody Morrissey and the very musical Marr make such a fine family. But I'd like to applaud the wonderful work of the other two Smiths (whoever they are).
Great musicianship all around. Some of the tunes seem to be variations on the title track.
This is most apocalyptic new wave offering I've yet heard. I enjoyed the dramatic touches and Cabaret influence.
I heard this a few years back and never thought much of it. Upon revisiting the album, my opinion has happily been transformed.
I laughed aloud during '30,000 Monkies' when realizing that its wild title so squarely fits its wild sound. My ears enjoyed these noisy creations.
The bittersweet stand-out 'Where Are We Now' and the bold album cover itself promote an imprecise nostalgia that's more slippery and certainly more thoughtful than most other sixty-six-year-old former-glory rockstars are capable of creating. Bowie moves on and I'm a big fan. Favorite songs: 'Love Is Lost', 'Where Are We Now?', 'Valentine's Day' (three great tracks back to back)
This album's a blast, very funny, a lyrical treasure. The drum machine + rock song doesn't always sound great, tho.
It feels like a shame to rate this a 2, but I don't remember much about the record. I'll have to revisit it.
This is a colorful bunch of songs and my favorite thing the band has to offer.
Dark and dirty with a weird Dylan cover in the mix and a grim album cover. I liked it well enough.
Raw talent tarnished by too much horny production. But listening to this, I can see where Richard Manuel from The Band learned to sing. I'm glad Mr. Charles inspired my favorites.
This was my first taste of the Yeezer, and I can't say I'm impressed. The King Crimson sample made me laugh out loud.
I ACTUALLY enjoyed this, and my infant son was enthralled too.
Didn't know what to expect with this one — I grooved along all the while, but I won't remember any of it.
I've been meaning to listen to this since its release, but it's a shambling mess of music redeemed only by its humor and occasional virtuosic production. Favorite track: 'Tokyo'
I'd enjoyed this more than I expected to.
Crusty drunken romance by the dark master of street storytelling. It's either a live recording pretending to be a studio album or maybe the other way around, but it's all an act. A little overlong, but really riveting most of the time.
Jimi's one tone voice and half-baked "heys" really don't inspire me. His guitar work is good enough; and the band occasionally breaks out of its locked basement of blues riffery, but not nearly often enough! Favorite track: 'The Wind Cries Mary'
It's actually not awful! My prejudice against ultra-popular common-joe bands has steered me clear of Skynyrd beyond the inevitable exposure to the insidious hits (many of which belong to this album). The band really can rock unison riffs à la King Crimson. I think the album looses steam half way through, but it's a strong offering.
Not my favorite collection of Kinks songs, but it's a catchy record.
Overloaded and ambitious and seemingly behind its time in history, but I appreciate its artsy reach.
Paranoid but pretty - Talking Heads started something special with this prescient record.
Still a distance from the sleek studio sound Steely Dan would develop in a short time by the end of the decade, this diverse debut album features strong little songs, mostly rather tuneful ditties with vocals shared across three singers. The multi-layered last track takes things to another level with its tasteful yet ambitious arrangement and mysterious no-good lyric; it is this type of song that sets Steely Dan above 'em all. Favorite track: 'Fire In The Hole' or 'Turn That Heartbeat Over Again' Least favorite track: Do It Again
Didn't expect much—I'm pleasantly surprised. The crazy 'Chemical Warfare' and also the odd-timed 'Ill In The Head' push the band into prog-punk territory. I'm all for it.
Tom's got the magic marimba blues and it's beautiful.
Some of the textures are intriguing and maybe beautiful ('Serpents', 'The Conference'), but I definitely didn't enjoy the entire hour of content in this rather eclectic collection. What's Nitin Sawhney's role here? The album unfolds like a curated playlist of miscellaneous electronic, world, and neo-soul music.
The multiple songs lack much dynamics or variation. Wire would get a lot more interesting with the release of their next record "Chairs Missing".
I think Bowie's use of diminished chords distinguishes him with a dramatic theatricality that's absolutely essential to his career. Favorite track: 'Oh! You Pretty Things' or 'Quicksand' Least favorite: 'Andy Warhol' or 'Song for Bob Dylan'
I'm a sucker for ambient and jazz. This is it.
I'll have to revisit this, but all the sonics surprised me.
While sporting some of my favorite Led Zeppelin songs, "Physical Graffiti" also boasts an unfair share of boring blues.
Paranoid pop with the wild likes of Bowie, Eno, and Fripp.
I certainly admire the modern krautrock stylizations of this record, but nothing really struck me.
This synth-pop is punctured with punchy, punky guitar, loosely strewn. I like it well enough, but the songs don't really stick.
Waits' first "weird" record (and my first introduction to his work) remains my favorite for all of its diverse voices and wide ideas. Favorite track: 'Soldier's Things'
A great big synthesized sexscape. 'International Lover' is hilarious and haunting—I think that's an impressive combination.
Promentalshitbackwashpsychosis Enema Squad (The Doo Doo Chasers)...
Catchy melodies and minimalist arrangements make for concise songcraft. 'Is This It' and 'When It Started' are both bass-heavy favorites.
Not a lot of variety, and the lyrics are really dumb; but the big hits are sure catchy!
Ruby's Arms and Jersey Girl are gorgeous.
Much of this is especially enjoyable downtempo samba; however, I don't really like listening to eleven tracks of especially enjoyable downtempo samba in a row.
Great late career record with beautiful production I would have sworn to be the work of Daniel Lanois. Favorites: 'Michelangelo' and 'Bang the Drum Slowly'
Rough-edged garage rock covers of Chuck Berry isn't my jam, although I understand how many might like it.
The album's true to its title, but it's that one-note focus that makes this record a tiresome listen. I'm especially not fond of the guest singers who seem to spring up on every other track. All that being said, Nick Cave's a captivating performer and poet, a talented visionary. I'm a big fan. (And 'Stagger Lee' is really fun).
I'd rather slit my wrists, or at least listen to The Slits. Still, it''s better than Nirvana.
It's an interminable, unmemorable, big ol' bore. At least 'I Just Want To See His Face' breaks the flow of boring blues with some swampy gospel. As if a testament to fans' preferences for blue-color music, this adventurous song has the second fewest streams on Spotify, and that's a goddamned shame.
Hilarious and hits hard even if I don't get all the Britishism.
I admire Peter Gabriel's artistic vision and achievements very much, but his debut solo album is a huge scrambling mess saved only by the excellent 'Solsbury Hill' and the mysterious 'Here Comes the Flood' (one of my favorite songs).
Enjoyable, but this is not my jam.
Out in early 1977, David Bowie’s Low blasts off with all sorts of synthetic sounds and marks yet another slab of new ground for the especially eclectic singer. But ‘Speed Of Life’ is all instruments, and these instruments emit some gnarly noises in an otherwise danceable ditty with a few funky themes. Amid all the synths, even the drums brandish a robotic badge. Every element seem to screech out of some alien apparatus, and that’s the general gist of this record: pop music from space (perhaps at one time the ol’ Spiders really did live on Mars?). ‘Breaking Glass’ begins with a strange break between bass-n-drums, funky in feel and hard to follow as a raw guitar offsets everything with tense bends. All suddenly segue to different-key disco with David on the mic muttering nothing much but funny stuff like: “don’t look at the carpet / I drew something awful on it”. Synths only occasionally touch up the tune with a simple three note ear-panning passage passing from right-to-left. The tricky intro returns with layered Davids fearfully singing. It all fades away instrumentally doing another dash of disco. ‘What In The World’ proceeds at a paranoid pace with too many busy instruments tripping around each other. Something similar to the sound of Pac-Man appears prominently above every other instrument. Bowie hardly bothers to sing the verses and opts instead for casual low-toned mumblings about the “little girl with grey eyes”; nevertheless, the song starts to steam each chorus with its swift dynamic shifts of chord and wonderings of “what in the world can you do?”. A true query when you’re only “talking through the gloom”. ‘Sound And Vision’ is a sprightly song with its immediately bright tones: a bubbly bass, a spunky six-string, and something like eggs sizzling on a pan every other beat. Soon: synths join in with huge sustained joys-to-the-world. “Ooh ahh” from a bunch of Bowies. Nasty saxophone just for a few seconds to cue the singer for his favorite subjects: “don’t you wonder sometimes / about sound and vision?” He’s all over in the octaves, high-n-low (but mostly low). His lyrics are few and the singing itself is subdued and distorted, but somehow, it still sounds stunningly lovely all the while. ‘Always Crashing In The Same Car’ winds down a slow and lonely road, but the sound is anything but sparse. Expansive synths bubble and burst in the background as extra-gritty guitars shakily strum vast downbeats. Something like ‘Lady Marmalade’ repeats on a miserable mellotron and Bowie wheezes his inevitable fate with the intriguing idea of “always crashing in the same car”. The music matches the morose mood; on “car”, everything collapses into a cycle of deceptive cadences. Here we hear the music perfectly portray the rise-n-fall of one’s dreams. ‘Be My Wife’ rollicks with its pub piano and guitar rocking a repeating rhythmic gesture at the end of each phrase, but the lyrics regard the aimless singer’s sad solitude as a star. Disco chorus features a dancing bass and Bowie’s adorable or perhaps desperate declaration: “please be mine / share my life / stay with me / be my wife”. Is it happiness or hopelessness that compels him to inquire after a companion? ‘A New Career In A New Town’ treads its territory tenderly. Gentle strains of synthscape softly paint this picture of a man seeking a fresh start on his life. Nevertheless, it doesn’t take too long until he breaks through and finds his footing; the main theme of this music carries an immensely optimistic momentum. Featured most prominently are the wistful winds of a harmonica. No words are sung, but the music resonates with its own hefty emotional impact. ‘Warszawa’ starts off the second side of songs with its rows of low synths all rumbling out repetitions on one holy note. This slow and sacred procession makes for an imposing entrance. A minute in, the song finally arrives and activates with all the lovely layered true-gloom synths forming full unison melancholy melodies over-n-over. Later, Bowie chants in unintelligible tribal-like tongues as if the spokesperson at some sublimely sad ceremony for the deceased. Perhaps the piece must best be perceived as a musical memorial, something like the sonic snapshot of an ashen bomb-scarred Warsaw in World War II; or for any incident where innocents suffered dispossession and death. ‘Art Decade’ advances the ambient style of the last track; it’s just as melodic but it’s busier. Melodies spiral down around sounds of vibraphone and synths and a cello or two. Various unaccountable noises distantly rip through the air in quick occasional flurries. Swampy synths burble. Even with lots of layers, a single static sound is sustained throughout; and that’s the hallmark of A+ ambient music. ‘Weeping Wall’ happens with hypnotic mallet instruments playing murder music at an anxious pace. Big synths go for ‘Greensleeves’ (or some similar modal melody) as the chords continually chart an unpredictable pattern. Distorted guitars shear through simple solos featuring minimal pitches and long sustained bends. Tribal choir gets rather reverberant at the end and sounds something like a train. Everything has a place in the manic mood. There’s no development at all, but that’s not the point. ‘Subterraneans’ concludes the collection with more real-deal ambient music. Lonely, hopeless, spacious, the track floats on a cloud of misty synths throbbing in reverse. A treacherous bass builds up approaching with only a few notes heard at any time. Wordless voices join the joyless assembly. Out of the big blue, a saxophone comes a-crawling with forlorn lines to share. Bowie’s tone of voice tightens on a nice rhythmic bit of nonsense: “care-line, care-line, care-line / care-line driving me / Shirley, Shirley, Shirley own / share bride failing star”. It fades away wearily and the album’s over. Despite the title, David Bowie’s Low is actually “high” as far as artistic achievements are concerned. Vastly influential, the album and its wacky sound make for essential listening if you’re interesting in charting the natural course that pop music would pave into the eighties. And what about world music? This album covers lots of ground.
This collection of so-called "club classics" proved to be perfect ambience for a long session of graphic design work. The repetitive structure of the songs served as a fine frame for my focus. Nevertheless, I didn't love any bit of it.
Cute album cover...
The hits are huge, but what else can be said?
Although I'm not familiar with the film (I plan to watch it soon), I found the moody mellotron-heavy ambience of this album to be very pleasing in its own right. The music reminds me of Tangerine Dream, Popol Vuh, or early post-Syd Barrett era Pink Floyd (all of these artists notable for some soundtrack work).
I prefer '20 Jazz Funk Greats' for its humor and diversity, but a Throbbing Gristle record is always a dark cacophony. Favorite track: 'E-Coli'
Cat’s voice is a passionate warble (occasionally grating). He’s keen on expressing a certain dynamic percussive element in his music, a certain weightlessness punctuated with hard rhythms. While not always memorable, his songs are attractively adventurous and ambitious. I’m a fan.
I just can't enjoy the monotonous sludge of distorted guitars and Corgan's petulant whine.
I enjoyed these rhythmic grooves more than I expected to.
I understand the spirit of punk, but I hate its sound.
Leonard Cohen + late-80s music production techniques is such a crazy and incongruous combination, but it somehow works so well. The album cover's sunglasses and banana sums it all up. Gravitas and humor go head-to-head here with some absolute classic tracks like the ominous 'Everybody Knows' and the sly 'Tower of Song'. I'm your fan.
Despite the annoying voice of Robert Plant and the slipshod guitar of Jimmy Page, this album boasts a few of the band's most notable moments.
I hadn't listened to this for five years or so, but I'm impressed as ever upon revisiting the record. Yes possessed a ridiculous level of talent within its membership. In one band, you've got Jon Anderson's unique elvish voice, Bill Bruford's jazzy \"off-beat\" drumming, Steve Howe's insanely tasty guitar, Rick Wakeman's crazy classical keyboards, and of course, Chris Squire's peerless bass-playing. Forget the senseless lyrics. What really rocks here are the long full-band jams in 'Roundabout', 'South Side of the Sky', and 'Heart of the Sunrise', all of which are complex yet catchy enough to receive mainstream radio play. The brief and bright 'Long Distance Runaround' provides a bit of a break from the \"epics\", but it's just as good. In a curious display of democracy, each band member also gets a chance to display his own skill or interests with a unique \"personality\" song. Unfortunately, most of these little sketches feel out of place in the sequencing of the record. Fortunately, they're all very short! I'm awarding the record a 4/5 for the sake of the great collaborative compositions. Imagine if the band had scrapped the solo song concept and replaced those bits with another full-composed classic like 'Roundabout'? In the alternate earth depicted on the album's cover, \"Fragile\" is the prog album to end all prog albums.
This album merges Kraftwerkian robo-repetition with elements of more traditional songwriting; and it's often like a less-wacky Talking Heads turning out longer songs. I like it.
Far too long, but at least it's fun
As much as I dislike the braggadocio inherent in gangsta rap, this record is a blast. As "First Impression" plainly states, I find Ice T to be the dopest, flyest, O.G. pimp hustler, gangsta player, hardcore motherfucker living today...
I can't imagine introducing anyone to Leonard Cohen with the last album of his long lifetime. I think a proper appreciation of the man and his music requires a chronological approach, from first album to last. In exploring the work in this way, the listener eases into the more shocking aspects of Leonard Cohen (namely, his sagacious old-croak of a voice and his late-career synth-pop and midi-music). The listener also arrives at the conclusion that YOU WANT IT DARKER is a very satisfying swan-song for such an alluring artist. Favorite track: 'Steer Your Way'
The dirge-like jam 'Spiders and Vinegaroons' reminded me of Amon Düül II. Apart from that (and other experimental stuff towards the end), nothing really stuck out to me. The actual songs are all choked in dust.
What in the world is this? The first track shook me with its sheer intensity. Absolute madness.
Talented musicianship marred by the bothersome "ooh baby yeah" type of vocal approach. The extended instrumentals are all ace.
nevermind the Sex Pistols...
I absolutely hated this until the last couple tracks stripped away the slick production and revealed some pure folksy blues made by Mr Hooker's hands and heart alone. All the special guests and features bring the record down! Thus, I must award this album a low rating despite its deep-cut value.
This satisfies all over the map, although it's not the most memorable.
Solid influential debut by overrated ratty-haired wannabe bluesmen.
There seem to be a lot of albums like this on this long list. At least "The Fat of the Land" tickled my interest more powerfully than the other Prodigy selection, "Music for the Jilted Generation".
Bristling with energy, this quirky jerky music is a real classic.
This is very different from any other rap album I've heard. I enjoyed the global menagerie of sounds — definitely want to revisit this.
Although there are a couple lesser effort songs in the mix, the album is packed with classics. I love the off-the-wall lyrics.
The last song was nice by virtue of its variety.
I was eager to hear this, but ultimately disappointed by the redundancy—every song is essentially the same. At least the Bee Gees cover spiced up the set.
70 minutes is much too much of this glittery, schizophrenic music.