Music can heighten our emotions, set a tone for the night, and even break the tension of an awkward or high-pressure date. We all have those songs that put us in a romantic mood, but what really makes a song a love song?

Lyrics certainly play a big role in this categorization. Love songs generally contain lyrics admiring the appearance of a loved one, describing the singer’s devotion to them, or imagining a future of their lives together. Music provides us with another outlet to express feelings. The lyrics of a song can often speak to emotions you are unable to put into spoken words.

You could try to boil love songs down to anything you can slow dance to, but the notion of what makes a love song has shifted dramatically over the years. Some tracks will always remain quintessential to the category of love songs, but the way we express ourselves has changed over time; music changed alongside us. Tracing the history of love songs is a fascinating journey into how people convey their feelings through song.

Early love songs, roughly from the 1930s to 1940s, share a slow rhythm and ballad-like vocals. Many of the songs written during this era have lasted far beyond their creation, recreated by countless musicians. Composers Cole Porter, Irving Berlin, Jerome Kern, and George Gershwin dominated the love song charts. Piano was the instrument of choice, songs focusing on the intimate feeling created by stripping down the music to simple duo of keys and vocals.

Classics like “I’ve Got You Under My Skin,” “Cheek to Cheek,” “My Funny Valentine,” and “They Can’t Take That Away From Me” all come from this period. But perhaps the most influential song of this time is “The Way You Look Tonight,” written in 1936 by Jerome Kern. It debuted in the film Swing Time, sung by Fred Astaire to Ginger Rogers. This song has remained a standout of romantic music, being covered by Frank Sinatra, Ella Fitzgerald, and more.

The 1950s and 1960s carried over some tropes from past decades, songs like “Moon River” and “Can’t Help Falling in Love” upholding slow tempos with simple accompaniments. However, changes in mainstream music and the rise of popularity for rock ‘n’ roll, soul, and doo-wop pushed the love song out of its comfort zone. Songs were faster, had driving beats, and featured more complex instrumentation. There wasn’t one “correct” type of music, genres diversifying for wider audiences.

The Supremes and The Chiffons brought female groups into the spotlight with harmonized hits including “Baby Love” and “One Fine Day.” The content of love songs didn’t have the same one-on-one intensity of those in the 30s and 40s. Tracks like “Oh, Pretty Woman” by Roy Orbison employed freer lyrics and tempos, painting romance as a celebration. Love songs of these decades invite the listener to dance around the room as they pleased, not sanctioned to the static slow dance.

Change was rampant in the 1970s, and this change deeply extended into music. Romantic tracks gained a sensuous feeling with slow beats and twangy guitar riffs, personified most clearly by Marvin Gaye’s “Let’s Get It On.” The ballad also gained new footing, with new additions from guitar and even synthesizers.

The 1980s had a flair for the dramatic, and drama was palpable in the hard hitting love songs from this time. Vocal powerhouses like Whitney Houston and Tina Turner shared airtime with glam-rock bands, all commenting on romance in a variety of ways. Love wasn’t solely idealized anymore, it also took on negative connotations, like in Bon Jovi’s “You Give Love a Bad Name” and Pat Benatar’s “Love is a Battlefield.“

Coming back to the present, love songs have diverged into subgenres of pop, soul, and R&B. Pop love songs are usually overplayed, semi-downtempo, and typically have lyrics pertaining to the overly-cheesy parts of romance. In short, they are the ones most likely to be played at a relative’s wedding.

Soul love songs are tender in lyrics and musical prowess, integrating pared down percussion to compliment nuanced vocals and instrumental riffs, Leon Bridges’ album Good Thing a magnificent example. The R&B category of love songs align with the tendencies of the 1970s songs, pushing sensuality and the physical side of love with slow beats and intimate — and often explicit — lyrics.

Music speaks to us in a multitude of ways, frequently to our emotions. Exploring what love songs are to you can reveal feelings you may have not even known you held. Love songs are for everyone to enjoy, not just people in relationships. Even those who are avidly anti-Valentine’s Day can find something to love through music.

The post Old Soul: What Makes a Love Song? appeared first on KRUI Radio.

I am extremely happy to be reviewing this album because it is the first time that I’m one hundred percent positive that the album is a concept album. I’m still brand new when it comes to listening to concept albums, but I am fascinated with the ones I have heard. Concept albums are what an album should be: a perfectly curated collection of songs that truly move a person if you’re listening to it the right way.

It is so much more than slapping together 20 songs and releasing them under one title. On “The Bride”, Kahn tells the first-person story of a woman about to be married before her fiancé passes away the day of their wedding and the grief/recuperation that comes afterward. I am excited to hear what Bat For Lashes came up with to create the story, but I’m expecting more than cookie-cutter love songs.

The opening track, “I Do”, is a very blissful introduction to the album. The lyrics are easy enough to understand. A woman is singing about her upcoming wedding and describes how the words “I do” will mean the end of all trouble in her life. The music is like a lullaby, but also is clearly a tune that would be played at a wedding. The song sounds like it would be played during a daydream, which would be calming if I didn’t know how heartbroken this woman was about to be.

The tone of the album changes immediately as the second song, “Joe’s Dream”, starts. The track serves as a warning, either from the singer or from her soon-to-be-husband. As the title suggests, the story turns to one of a “dream of God’s searchlight,” which suggests that the dream was an omen of imminent death. The music itself in this song becomes repetitive but adds a lot to the feeling the listener is supposed to get from the story at this point. It is haunting but it is beautiful.

By the time “In God’s House” starts playing, our bride is waiting for her fiancé at the church for their wedding ceremony. The lyrics are composed of her anxious thoughts and speculations about why he could be running so late, most of which involve his death. This song gets more musically intense than the previous track and continues to get more intense as the bride and listeners realize together that her love has passed.

“Honeymooning Alone” confirms that the worst the bride could have imagined has come true. This song seems to be the beginning of the recurring loneliness theme of the album, as the bride drives away from her wedding towards her honeymoon without a husband. The lyric “I can’t speak because I don’t have you here by my side,” breaks my heart. She doesn’t even know how to feel without her love by her side. The song definitely cues the listener into the singer’s emotions, even though anybody could easily assume what her emotions would be. Her vocals are float-y and hollow, which strengthens the emotion.

“Sunday Love” is the first song on “The Bride” to confuse me. I do not quite know what Kahn is singing about. She is singing about “Sunday love”, but personifies it as a “her.” This personification makes me wonder if Kahn is singing about an actual person, or fantasizing about having the love she had with her deceased fiancé again. The song definitely holds some contradictory resentment in it with the lyrics “Sunday love is so cold” and “I want Sunday love in my heart” juxtaposed together in the chorus. There is a lot that is still open to interpretation, however, and I’m not sure if I have it figured out. Musically, the outro is beautiful. I love the way that the song seems to be letting itself go, which hopefully alludes to our new widow letting go of her pain.

Emotions shift again with “Never Forgive the Angels” to anger. This song is eerie to me because it holds such a calm outrage that I almost missed it completely. The song sounds like one of sadness, until I hear the words “I will never forgive the angels for [my love being gone].” She is no longer dwelling on past events as just things that happened but is now dwelling on them as things that happened directly to her. Her fiancé was taken, he didn’t just die. The music behind her words is soothing and could’ve just as easily been used for a song about having a perfect wedding and happy marriage. If it weren’t for the music and the slight reverb used on Kahn’s voice, I think the song would fall flat.

I had been wondering for the entire album how the relationship between the two lovers had been prior to their wedding. They could have been extremely close or it could have been abusive. “Close Encounters” confirmed to me that their relationship was an amazing one. Kahn sings about how she can still feel her fiancé everywhere that she goes. She feels like she can still communicate with him, and describes it as being able to go over to “the other side” when she needs him with her. It must have been an incredibly harmonious relationship in order for her to feel like her love can still comfort her even though he isn’t physically with her. The song sounds a lot like the previous track did, but doesn’t hold a grudge.

I probably wouldn’t choose to listen to “Widow’s Peak” unless it was in the context of this album and I was listening to the story again. I take this as a success on the artist’s part since it’s such a strong part of this one album that it doesn’t belong anywhere else. The song reminds me of a musical interpretation of a nightmare the bride may have had after her love had died. There is no singing, and there isn’t too much inflection in the tone of her voice while she is speaking. I can’t tell who the widow is talking to exactly, but I could assume that it would be either death, whoever she sees responsible for her love’s death, or her love himself. The song is so unique and curious that listeners have surely come up with numerous interpretations

I had to listen to “Land’s End” a few times before I had a sturdy understanding to write a review about it. The simplest lyrics connected and created the story for me, including “I drove down that old country road” and “for my love I will bleed, gonna drive until I set myself free.” Along with the repetition of the phrase “land’s end” I take this song to mean that the bride is so devastated, angry, depressed and confused that she plans to die in the same way her love did. Some of the string instrumentals sound like something that would be played at a funeral. The song is, again, much calmer than the emotion being portrayed, which makes it so much stronger.

“If I Knew” is a song that I’ve been putting on repeat since I understood it for the first time since because of its relevance to my life right now. The artist finally seems to feel some kind of peace within the situation as she reminisces about the relationship that she had with her love before it ended. She sings about how much he lifted her up, how much he taught her, and how much positive change he put into her life. She thanks him for helping her find herself again.

She says he showed her that the mountain she was trying to climb had a mirror at the top, that all that she had ever been aiming to find could be found inside of her the entire time. She speaks of how she has no regrets and would live it all again if she had the chance. This is the truest love song I have heard in the longest of times, and it is one of my new favorites. I would be lying if I said it hasn’t brought me to tears.

The widow looks back on the journey she’s had since she lost her fiancé in “I Will Love Again”. She acknowledges how she was feeling, but doesn’t feel shameful or embarrassed, which is an important message to send to those listening. The music the music is calming and reassuring, and even though it goes on its own for nearly an entire minute before the lyrics begin, I don’t get bored listening to it.

During the chorus, there is a two-part harmony between the voice we have been hearing for the entire album and what sounds like a male voice. I wonder if this voice is her would-be husband, reminding her that, yes, she will be able to find somebody to love again. The music goes on its own again for over a minute and a half, but I am not bored with it this time either. I think that it symbolizes the time that she is taking/has taken to let everything go.

The last two songs, “In Your Bed” and “Clouds”, confuse me. They seem to be either the widow going back into her depressed state or the widow finding another “true” love but still looking for the love she lost in everything she sees.

I hope that “In Your Bed” is the widow describing how the love she’s found years down the line is just as amazing as the one that she had with her deceased fiancé. This song taking place in the future makes sense with my interpretation of the end of “I Will Love Again,” but I also get the feeling that she could still be singing about the love that she used to have, and is becoming angry again that he isn’t there with her anymore. I was excited for the album to have a somewhat happy ended with her finding a new love, so I’m going to try and convince myself that Kahn was speaking to a new lover, and developing the new dreams spoken of in the lyrics with somebody new.

“Clouds”, the final track on “The Bride”, also seems like it takes place years into the future. I was expecting a song about the bride getting to see her husband again in the afterlife because I suppose I’m dramatic like that, but I don’t feel that coming from the lyrics. The only thing I can pick up is that she is waiting for her new love to show up in her life, but that would contradict the previous song where I had interpreted her speaking to her new lover about their relationship. I can’t come up with a conclusion about these last two songs, but it’s possible that they are disconnected from the story. It’s also possible that “The Bride” has an unsatisfactory ending, with the widow never finding a love and always being hooked onto the man that she was supposed to spend her life with.

The songs flow together in the way that any other personal journey flows, slowly and not all at once. The album doesn’t change musical style every time a new track starts, but each song leads the way into the next. Slowly, “The Bride” goes from unaware naivety to haunting recollection to a new hope and finally settles on peace before the listener can even realize that there was a change in tone at all. This album was clearly meticulously planned and written and placed in order for a story to be properly told, and I appreciate it. This album is so different than any other that I’ve heard before, and I will no doubt be listening to it again.

Listen to “The Bride” by Bat For Lashes below or here.

The post Album Review: “The Bride” by Bat For Lashes appeared first on KRUI Radio.

Oddly enough, the first thing that I notice about the album is that the tracks are in alphabetical order. While this is extremely satisfying, I’m not sure it was intentional. This satisfactory organization begins with the opening track of “Burn the Witch.” The band released a really neat claymation music video for this song  I like this song, as different as it is from Radiohead’s past projects. Naturally, I am thrilled about the strings that arrive right before the chorus.

As I dug into what the song truly meant (since I didn’t have an interpretation myself), I fell across an interview with the animator for the “Burn the Witch” video. She spoke about how, based on her individual interpretation, the band may have wanted to use the track to raise awareness of the refugee crisis in Europe and the blame/negativity pointed towards Muslims. I thought that this was a really amazing interpretation, and her interview makes me think more about the song and the album as a whole.

“Daydreaming” is extremely calming from the beginning. I can feel myself drifting away as though I am (you guessed it) daydreaming. What really caught my attention was what I saw when I looked up the lyrics to the song. Since the music is so distracting it is easy to ignore them. At the end of the song, there was a repetition of “Efil ym fo flaH.” I noticed that this was “Half of my life” backwards. With a simple Google search, I discovered that the song featured the phrase sung backwards. I can’t figure out the significance of this unless it is purely to contribute to the song’s other-worldly feeling, but perhaps I am missing something. My favorite part of this song was by far the deep tones the strings provided in the middle. The changing dynamics have got me in love.

“Decks Dark” left me craving more. I loved the vocals that started appearing after the first verse. I love how the song adds layers as it continues. I also love how this song blends so seamlessly into the next. With these loves, I kept waiting for something more. I think that I was waiting for more of a bite, maybe rougher electric guitar or a louder voice. I hope that I hear this soon, if at all, on the rest of this album.

The introduction to “Desert Island Disk” is comforting. It reminds me of the songs that my camp counselors used to play around the fire with an acoustic guitar. This song feels like a lullaby, and I love it. While I don’t think that it necessarily fits with the rest of the album, I would listen to this song on its own or add it to a playlist to fall asleep to.

“Ful Stop” is different. Based on the instrumental introduction, I was praying that the song would have an eighties electronic vibe, merely because I wanted to see where Radiohead would take that sound. That vibe is there, but it isn’t as apparent as, say, Depeche Mode’s “Just Can’t Get Enough” (a lifelong favorite of mine). As for the lyrics, I am feeling for the singer. Just reading through them and hearing them, it is easy to tell that there is an internal struggle happening. I think that it is between a person and his conscious, based on the lyrics “why should I be good if you’re not” and “still trapped in your full stop.”

“Glass Eye” has a truly amazing introduction. Truly amazing. I loved the piano and the strings and everything else about it so, so much that I wish there wasn’t a voice and the music would go on by itself for the two minutes and fifty-five seconds that the song lasts. I feel like the voice is so strong and so overpowering. Even though the lyrics near the end told a beautiful story, I wish that the voice could have been quiet and something you had to specifically listen for. But I’m just a sucker for good strings.

I like the rhythm of the lyrics in “Identikit,” but I do not like the repetitiveness of them. I don’t want to hear the same lyric repeated for a third of the song. The guitar in the outro of the song is something I was looking for that hadn’t happened yet, so I’m glad to hear that. However, before the song reaches that guitar, mostly I am just growing tired of the same old sound that has been recurring through the whole album. I really wish that something different would happen.

It took me up until “The Numbers” to realize what the sound this album has reminds me of, and that is spa music. I’m not sure how I feel about that, but I don’t think that I’m a fan. “The Numbers” just sounds like the rest of the album has for the most part, and I am getting bored. I’m still hoping for that harder rock element that early Radiohead had in the past (Airbag or Street Spirit).

There isn’t anything to say about “Present Tense” that I haven’t said already because it sounds exactly the same as every other song on the album has sounded. In my opinion, the vocal-to-instrumental ratio of this song should have been reversed with “Glass Eyes.” I couldn’t understand the voice most of the time because it was drowned out by the music (the same music for the entire song).

“Tinker Tailor Soldier Sailor Rich Man Poor Man Beggar Man Theif” has a really freaking awesome title. I wish with everything I have that the awesomeness of the song kept up with the awesomeness of the title. The song sounds like something you would hear on a chill electronic station which is something that I wouldn’t have associated with Radiohead in the past.

I really hate that I like the last song on this album. “True Love Waits” is a song that Radiohead has been performing live since before I was born. They tried to perfect it and put it on an album several times, but they kept discarding it up until “A Moon Shaped Pool”. I think that the reason I like this song is mainly because it’s a different take on something I’ve heard before by the same band that has been working on it for over two decades. It’s refined, and if it’s on this album, it must mean that the band finds it perfect. Do I wish that this version was the version that ended up on the album instead of the one that actually made it? Absolutely. The live performances were amazing, and so much better than this finalized “True Love Waits,” but I’m not too angry at it.

I am left at the end of this album feeling like I am missing something. I really wanted to hear the type of rock music that Radiohead used to create in the 90’s. When I kept not hearing it track after track, it was incredibly frustrating. Perhaps I am just bitter because I want that nostalgic feeling. I want to be reminded of the music that I grew up with and listened to through high school. I miss that sound and I still yearn for it. This album would have been amazing if it was by a band that wasn’t Radiohead.

Listen to “A Moon Shaped Pool” below or here.

[SHAMELESS PLUGS: here are my Instagram and Twitter, do with them what you will]

The post Album Review: “A Moon Shaped Pool” by Radiohead appeared first on KRUI Radio.

Real Friends, a pop punk band from Tinley Park, Illinois, is a band that has quickly made their way up in the scene and also on the list of my favorite bands. After seeing them live at Warped Tour 2014, I became obsessed. While the pop punk scene is huge, I had heard nothing like Real Friends before. They stood out to me, especially with their first full length album Maybe This Place Is the Same and We’re Just Changing that debuted in July 2014. Now, almost two years later, Real Friends drop their sophomore LP with Fearless Records, The Home Inside My Head. Without further ado, lets jump into the review.

The album starts out very promising with the song “Stay In One Place,” a guitar-heavy and drum-driven track that sets the stage for what the album entails and who Real Friends are as a band. We then jump into the second track, “Empty Picture Frames,” which I was pleasantly surprised with. The opening guitar catches the ear of the listener, and the catchy chorus keeps them around for the entire song. I was surprised that this song wasn’t a single released prior to the album release, considering it is arguably the biggest standout track and fan favorite from this album. Not to mention, the albums title comes from the chorus: “The home inside my head has a bed for me / that no one will ever get the chance to see.”

We continue on with “Keep Lying To Me,” a song that showcases a lot of vulnerability from the band. Bassist and lyricist Kyle Fasel includes a lot of clever word play on the word “lying,” using its different definitions and synonyms. It’s a strong track that keeps the album moving forward. “Scared To Be Alone” is up next, an inspiring song that is instrumentally and lyrically pleasing. It focuses on the idea that we shouldn’t settle because we are scared to be alone.

The album takes a turn with “Mokena,” a track that reinforces the idea that they are a group of ‘Illinois Sad Boys,’ a self-titled name that can be seen on a lot of their merchandise. Instrumentally, I love this song. The electric guitar is simple and slow, which paired with lead singer Dan Lambton’s soft voice during the verses and raspy voice during the choruses makes for an enjoyable listen. Lyrically, it isn’t all there. It kind of seems like Kyle Fasel was trying too hard to be deep and introspective with this track, which can be seen in the first verse with lyrics that are all over the place. It feels a little bit too forced.

The album picks up again with “Mess,” a single that sounds like a typical Real Friends song — loaded with guitars and drums. The line “I’m still a lost boy” made me crack a smile as it would with any Real Friends fan. A first time listener would think it’s just in reference to the themes throughout this album about feeling lost and alone, but a true fan will hear the dog whistle and know that it’s a stab at many of their old songs, where they reference being a “lost boy with bony knees,” a signature line that has been repeated throughout their music career. That line was special and stood out because it tells us that they’re the same guys they’ve always been, even though now they have been launched into mainstream pop punk since their debut album release in 2014.

“Isolating Everything” was written by Dan, a refreshing change in theme and lyricism from the repeated style and lyrics that Kyle composes. With Dan’s strained and raspy voice, it sounds like something that would be on their debut album. “Well, I’m Sorry” is next, a track with emo-influences, a drum-driven beat, and lyrics that follow the theme of acceptance.

We jump right into “Basement Stairs,” a song that follows a great melodic chorus and has a lot of momentum building up throughout. This is a song that I’m sure will be played live because of its high energy vibes. Next is “Door Without A Key,” a more basic run-of-the-mill Real Friends song. It’s not a bad song, it just doesn’t have anything particularly special about it. On its own, it’s borderline forgettable.

Up next is one of my favorite tracks, “Eastwick,” a breathtakingly beautiful and heartbreaking acoustic track. Brilliant lyrics matched with Dan’s softer vocals really help to carry this song and induce sad vibes upon the listener.

Real Friends close up the album with the track “Colder Quicker,” the perfect closing song for this record. It embodies all that this album is about by bringing together all of the themes present. The momentum in this song builds up and remains throughout the entire track.

Overall, I would say this is a great album. It’s a step up from “Maybe This Place Is the Same. . .”, and you can definitely see the growth in music style and vocals. The biggest issue I see with this album is the lyrics–some of them feel as if they were thrown together, and others don’t match the melodies. Kyle writes his lyrics in more spoken-poetry style with overflowing emotion, while Dan writes melodic lyrics that sometimes lack emotion. If only the two could have collaborated better to find what would work better, I think this album would have been a 10/10. Real Friends have written some amazing yet simple lyrics in the past, so I know they have it in them to write some more. I only see them getting bigger from here, and I think that the more they experiment and collaborate with their music, the more they will continue to grow and become better.

Real Friends will be playing all summer on Vans Warped Tour (stay tuned for that festival review!).

Feel free to follow me on Twitter, Instagram, and Tumblr where I upload concert pictures and you can be up-to-date on where I’ll be next.

The post Album Review: “The Home Inside My Head” by Real Friends appeared first on KRUI Radio.

Another reason I was drawn to this album was the story behind the band’s name. Alex Ebert, the singer-songwriter behind the band, had just gone to rehab after years of partying and battling drug addiction. While there, he began to write a book about his alter ego named Edward Sharpe. Ebert has said that the reason the words “Edward Sharpe” are crossed out on the cover of the album is because “There was no character to begin with, so why not kill him? He never really was there.” Having this interesting background knowledge made me want to know more about the music.

The album starts with the acoustic guitar that opens “Hot Coals.” The voice is, from the beginning, haunting. Later on, the song becomes upbeat with an emphasis on a piano, but the voice still remains haunting. This becomes more understandable as I realize that the song is about an old love: either a love for someone who has passed or a love that happened a long time ago. The singer-songwriter behind Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros, Alex Ebert, sings “hot coals tonight, Cimmerian / hot coals to die, Cimmerian.” Upon a simple Google search, I discovered that the Cimmerians were an ancient people with unknown origins and have an uncertain end. So perhaps this means that the love song is also for someone mysterious.

“Uncomfortable,” is an interesting song to me. Initially, I wasn’t too sure that I liked it since it just didn’t sound like something I would normally listen to. Until I looked up the lyrics, I had no idea what this song would be about. I understood why I felt what I felt about the song when I gave the lyrics a quick scan.

Ebert comments on freedom, guns, justice, religion, and beauty. “What y’all call freedom I can’t call no.” “Your fear looks like guns to me.” There are a lot of very controversial lyrics, and I interpret it all as a comment on the current state of things in the United States. Gun control, human rights, and the concept of beauty/body image are all things that are being discussed in the US today. Ebert also uses juxtaposition within the lyrics “uncomfortable, you’ve got to get uncomfortable.” The effects seem obvious: the listener becomes uncomfortable, not only with the sound of the song itself but with the lyrics that go along with it.

I am instantly reminded of “Here Comes the Sun” by the Beatles when I hear the beginning of “Somewhere.” I feel like the song is simple enough. It sounds like it is an airy love song that compares love for someone to a journey. The lyrics are repetitive but still provide a narrative. I would listen to this song again, but I don’t think that there’s too much to say about it.

“No Love Like Yours,” is another slightly repetitive song, but also still manages to hold a narrative. I wish that there had been more variety in the music itself, but still enjoy the piano that is featured throughout the song. Ebert sings about how he doesn’t know about much (America, his style, the dictionnaire to name a few), but wants to be taught about love. This provides an interesting thought since it seems like love is something that is always with us and doesn’t need to be learned.

I was excited to hear that the next song, “Wake Up the Sun,” seems to have a lot of jazz influence to it. I’m also happy to hear a deeper voice in this song since we haven’t really gotten to hear as much of that thus far. The lyrics mostly revolve around rejecting religion and the need to look inside oneself in order to find everything that is truly necessary to live.

For a split second at the beginning of “Free Stuff,” I thought that I was listening to “Do I Wanna Know” by the Arctic Monkeys, since the beat sounds exactly the same. I appreciate the beat since without it the song would be too empty, but more than that, it makes the song deeper and easier to really pay attention to. The lyrics aren’t too complex, but send a message similar to “I don’t have much and everything is temporary, but everyone keeps taking what’s there anyways.” The song is upbeat, but for some reason makes me sad to listen to.

“Let it Down” sounds like the song in the musical where we find out who the murderer was all along/the villain explains their evil plans/we all need to figure out what in god’s name to do about the issue at hand. However, I cannot figure out what these lyrics mean at all. I’m not really sure if I like how the music sounds, but I think that the lyrics and music are interesting together. The song also gets really intense and fast-paced at the end, and even though it doesn’t sound out of place I don’t think that it necessarily belongs there. If that makes sense.

I am in love with the first twenty-four seconds of “Perfect Time.” A strong entrance is lead by a trumpet and eventually joined by a piano. This intro is my favorite part of the entire album, and it takes up less than a minute. I love when instrumental music can move a person like this intro moved me. The singer seems to be contemplating the concept of love and whether it truly exists or can possibly happen to him. At the end, he seems to settle on the answer yes to both questions, as he lists things that he could associate with love. He also finally croons the words “It’s a perfect time for love with you,” as a conclusion to a beautiful song.

“Lullaby” holds the same kind of emotional feel that the previous song held, with a similar sounding tune. I really like listening to the intermissions encompassed by a piano. It does feel like a lullaby that could be sung or played for a child as they fall asleep, as there are a lot of rhymes and the music is extremely soothing. It is a very fun song to listen to as well as relaxing. It feels like it should be paired with a claymation or short film or children’s book.

Finally, we reach “The Ballad of Yaya.” Yet again, I am reminded of a song that is completely irrelevant to this album, “Africa” by Toto, once we reach the chorus of the Edward Sharpe song. (Brief intermission as I rediscover/re-fall-in-love with Toto IV.) All I could picture along the duration of the final “PersonA” song was driving and feeling careless, which I suppose is a good indication that I really like this song. It’s a song that I could use as background noise but could also sit there and listen to and be interested in, because it mixes a bunch of different feelings and genres into one track. There’s slow acoustic, a section that (again) features brass instruments, there are a few moments that sound like pop music. I think it’s very impressive that a group of artists can mix so many eclectic sounds into an album, let alone a single song.

Listen to “PersonA” by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros here:

The post Album Review: “PersonA” by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros appeared first on KRUI Radio.

Epigraph (noun): a short quotation or saying at the beginning of a book or chapter, intended to suggest its theme

Ubiquity

“There’s a menace in my bed. Can you see its silhouette…?”

                                                            Trouble (Stripped) – Halsey

I’m catching glimpses of your silhouette in trees,

and the air their leaves breathe is hot with your company.

Like fiery, foggy breaths on the back of my neck and

melting into the crease of my lips.

You dance around my shadow

until they blend together as one, slow-dancing

in the dark patches that hide from the sun.

I ask of you to try to mimic your displaced silhouette

with mine—feel me ghosting across the streets you walk,

as a menacing soul of your troubled past, of our

troubled mutual existence. I hope you see me in the trees.

I hope you carry me like the gravel in your boots,

as a constant prod at your (sole). And I hope you are haunted

with the fact that your ghost

comforts the menace in me.

Can you see its silhouette?

                        Can you see my silhouette?

Split Second

“We’re the alley cats. And they can throw their stones…”

                                                            Empty Gold – Halsey

There was something about the alley walls behind the bar

that called us home, as though they sheltered future secrets

we did not yet know. That night we discovered its potential,

I thought you would offer me a smoke off your calloused fingers

but you offered to take on the world with me.

For you, it was more than having someone

to brush the dirt off your knees. It was about

having someone behind you to catch the back of your collar

before you ever hit the ground.

When feudal parents became too much, it was someone

to seek refuge with in the timelessness of the bricks. The nights

we spend with our knees pressed to our chests, throwing

rocks at our shoes and kissing between guitar solos

that shred scars in the air behind the wall against our backs.

The place where your rough whispers snake through my ears

with the softest of intentions. The place where the blood

splattered on the concrete is not ours, but we pretend we know

the beaten, because it makes our cold brick house of secrecy a home

to the golden moments of teenage escape.

The Release

“Did you know that I can lift a car up all by myself?”

                                                            I Can Lift A Car – Walk The Moon

I left a part of myself at the barricade that night, where

the sounds washed over my skin and absorbed into the

cloth of my dress. It sounds like a careless mistake to say

I left it there. I won’t lose it, I won’t lose it, I won’t lose it,

I won’t lose it… but I promise it was a purposed loss.

We lift our hands to the sky, palms up

to the stage lights and the stars. The combined rawness

of our negative energies mingle in the air above us. I watch

our invisible demons fight one another behind my closed eyelids

until they dissolve into a smoke. My chest presses tightly

to the gate, suddenly numb to anything in the physical world.

Everything but the voices soar into space.

I can lift a car up. I can lift a car up all by myself.

We are committed in this moment to the strength we possess,

to no one but ourselves and the power in our veins.

The cars above our heads dust our palms with rust

that blows away in the wind. I press higher, the tips

of my toes barely touching the ground now, my body

a feathery hover between the smoky remains of my demons

and the clouds that were built for me to stand on.

I finally open my eyes. A thousand other voices scream

the same song as me. A hundred thousand other demons,

who do not and will not know me, dissipate to nothingness.

I remember that I am not alone. That night,

I left a part of who I was at the barricade.

The post Diary of a Wallflower: The Lyrical Epigraph appeared first on KRUI Radio.

Musically, all the instruments in the album play as if they represent a state or feeling in their songs. The acoustic is gentle, the strings are sorrowful, and the percussion is angry.  They complement the core of the album, which is undoubtedly the lyrics.

Damien Rice proves his powerful skills as a songwriter through his depiction of the failures of love.  The album seems to be caught in the moment after a lover wakes up from a dream and into a harsher reality while not being sure which one he’d rather be in.

Here are some of my favorite lyrics with their corresponding songs:

From the song, which titles the album, “My Favourite Faded Fantasy.”

“You could be my favourite faded fantasy
I’ve hung my happiness upon what it all could be”

Painful lyrics from the song “Colour Me In.” 

“So I tried to erase it

But the ink bled right through

Almost drove myself crazy

When these words led to you”

From one of my personal favorite songs, “The Box,” presumably about feeling trapped in a situation or relationship and contemplating the consequences of leaving.

“I have tried but I don’t fit

Into this box you call a gift

When I could be wild and free

But god forbid, then you might envy me…”

Lyrics pinpointing the failure of love in the song “Long Long Way.”

“’Cause love is tough

When enough is not enough”

From the song, “The Greatest Bastard,” which explores delusions, dreams, and facing reality.

“Or am I just dreaming once again?

Some dreams are better when they end”

If you want to know more about Damien Rice or follow his music, like him on Facebook or visit his website. Listen to the album in it’s entirety below:

The post Album Review: My Favourite Faded Fantasy by Damien Rice appeared first on KRUI Radio.