Black Lab
Your Body Above Me

July, what's going on? What are you running from? Why are you sleeping alone on the floor? Some people change, others hang on till they can't anymore.

- Gates Of The Country

Paul Durham is a guy who has studied. Ahead of him lies a promising career as a teacher, alongside a career as a solo folk musician doing acoustic shows across America.

Soon, numerous and well-known labels try to grab the potential golden goose, and he decides to sign with the large family of David Geffen.

The record can and must be made, so Paul creates a band from scratch. Excellent musicians and an extremely commendable rhythm section (Belfer, Stanfield, Head).

The greatest wrong one might do to Your Body Above Me is to consider it an "Alternative rock" album (a term I don't appreciate at all). What's inside? Honest and pure rock without frills and experiments. That's all it takes.

The jagged and broken voice of Durham is the highlight, expressing perfectly.

The singles chosen will be Wash It Away and Time Ago, which with its echo-effected guitar intro evokes in me the sin of how this work undeservedly lives in shadow.

From All The Money In The World written together with PJ Harvey, to the romantic crooner neurosis of Ten Million Years, it's hard not to write a particular praise for an album that has given me much.

All by ourselves, we made love under the sleeping moonless night.

The contract tires the leader and all-around person of the group, who decides to terminate and continue his musical journey with new companions, self-production and contractual independence.

That name, Black Lab borrowed half from Black Sabbath and the other half from Stereolab, continues to this day to deliver well-crafted music and a crescendo of emotions and sound developments that only those who don't stop at the appearances of Indie can appreciate fully.

I decided to open this review with a phrase from the last track of the album. Because in the end, we're all somewhat in a hurry to get the first place at the restaurant, the cinema, the hospice, or the cemetery, losing that sense of uncertainty and wonder that the journey offers. The rush to unwrap and open. It might seem trivial, but I hope neither I nor the reader of this collection of my nighttime rants forgets that the journey is more important than the destination. Enjoy this album and then criticize it if you must, but don't forget to look out the window now and then.