•
Rating:
A character who transforms his eccentricity into compositional inventiveness, blending all the shades of independent folk into a cauldron; Quinn Walker is struck by flashes of genius and madness and gifts us 29 songs that find their seed of life in psychedelic creativity. Such abundance leads to the division of the album into two parts: in the first, a sunny and rural post-folk predominates, while in the second, the author’s dark and schizoid vein prevails.
In "Laughter's An Asshole" the methodical reference points are Animal Collective or at least their psychedelic approach to the matter; thus we encounter an aphrodisiac "Baby Neon", strummed and suffused with harmonious chants, or the minimal ditty "I'd Like To Take A Picture", or again "Porcupine" where the carefree spirit typical of Devendra Banhart emerges; fantastic also is "Bing Bang Bong" with its choruses, essential and cheerful. The initial "Plenty Of Water For Mud" is a madrigal folk with a Fleet Foxes flavor, with a dreamy atmosphere that is also picked up in the final "Hiding Behind Waterfalls", where we can imagine ourselves all hugging and swaying under the waterfalls. In the background, there is always some melody or rhythm that recalls the jungle, as in "Rita Lolita", where we are immersed in the mist, observed by fierce animals, then illuminated by veiled sunshine and a power folk that reminds us of the legendary Unicorns. Among tribal rhythms and voodoo rites ("Chuckle Or Die") and attic songs that bring to mind dusty music boxes ("All The Party, In The Woods"), the first volume gives way to the second and to a more enigmatic personality.
In Lion Land, the pop melody of "Save Your Love For Me" immediately sticks in the ears, surreal and kitsch, followed by the ambiguous "Capital Punishment", a cranky song characterized by delirious vocal tones, very close to the style of Wevie Stonder. While always keeping Animal Collective as a cornerstone, there are surprises too, so even the Beach Boys are sucked into the frenzy: "In The Morning" seems to be of their making; while "Cubicles" and "Let Freedom Ring" are toys, the first a carousel possessed by an unbalanced entity, the second a toy train swaying to the melody of an accelerated waltz.
Indeed, we hold in our hands a saturated album where it is difficult to maintain concentrated listening to the end: the mind might get lost along the way, but each song is a little gem of folk creativity, to be loved and shared, preferably in suspended and fluctuating psychophysical conditions.
Loading comments slowly
