Mazzy Star
So Tonight That I Might See

THE REVIEW

Mazzy Star, romantic seekers of the dreamy sound that cradles, Hope Sandoval's superior mother-like voice that haunts or seduces, ethereal and on the brink of soporific, is boredom that disturbs... the slow-motion of Codeine has borne its fruits, with traces of Pentagle: strange this acoustic reconversion of the shoegazers.

The album in question is the group's masterpiece, from the initial, wonderful dance for lovers, "Fade Into You," to "Mary of Silence," a dark apocryphal tale with a whiff of "the shocking confessions of the brotherhood," which advances with lugubrious stealthy steps, barely touching the ritual magic of Dead Can Dance and the Doors, "Blue Light" and its sumptuous 50s vibes of a half-empty glass, "Five String Serenade" a cover of Love where the hypnotic atmosphere is eclipsed by the band's pop taste, up to the title track, a Velvet slowcore mantra laden with spleen that closes the album. These are songs born in the morning just after waking "while the sun colors the sky red above an old cemetery and you are not here with me". Hope Sandoval whispering to you indolent and aching among the fabric: "you will end up asleep or in love among the folds of this album". Undoubtedly the ultimate voice of melancholy, Hope is the Emily G. Dickinson of the "Narcoleptic" generation.

Melancholic suburban ghosts, Mazzy Star is the last sigh of accessible gothic culture in the form of ballads in American pop music, you can feel they are children of the paisley underground scene. Borrowing a phrase from a well-known rock critic: "If Rock and Roll is dead... this (album) is the moon on its grave", I slightly correct it: "...it's the reflection of the moon on its grave".