The Concretes, from Sweden with fury and clamor.
The fury comes from the multitude of elements that compose the band of "concretes" (basically 8, practically incalculable). The clamor instead comes from their music, which at first listen seems like a jumble of disorganized and redundant sounds, misty structures, and drunken arrangements. In reality, it takes very little to understand that there are solid foundations in the sound background of the band members.The first magic arrives with "Chico" (#3), of unique sweetness and enchantment: if it were slowed down, it would even remind you of Bjork's early days. However, the pleasant surprises don't end here. For example, the journey undertaken by paying homage to Motown, with "Diana Ross" (#2) and "You Can't Hurry Love" (#5), leads to a respectable vintage pop that increasingly convinces one to continue listening to this debut from the cold north.
You continue with your mouth open, receiving in return abundant and satisfying spoonfuls of lethargy, until achieving complete muscular relaxation.
Be careful though, I strongly advise against the album for those who have just emerged from a bad moment: get it, keep it along with your beloved albums, and listen to it at times when your mood has a more positive approach. The line between calmness and melancholy is so thin, it's just a matter of disposition! I believe you will be captivated by it, especially if the cold increases and the fog lowers, this is the perfect soundtrack.
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As usual, the problem of rating arises, 5 stars are not enough for me: for the superficial readers who read the rating at the end of the review, I put 4/5, for those who took the time to read it thoroughly, I delve into the matter with a 7+/10, which seems much more balanced to me.