Take a CD, yes, any one. Maybe one you don't care much about, like, say, "Tomb of Mutilated" by Cannibal Corpse which, now that we're of a certain age we can say it, really sucked. Done? Ok, now scratch it with your favorite cocktail umbrella, dip it in champagne and finally caramelize it. Done? Ok. Now throw it away because not only is it unusable by now, but it has absolutely nothing to do with the Tipsy.
The Tipsy are a space lounge duo full of sugary and lounge citations. Considering they are a male duo, considering the type of music they make and the fact that they are from San Francisco makes me suspect that the two might be into each other, that they are gay. But this, I admit, is quite a sterile digression (there, ahem). Sure, I would undoubtedly use their music in a montage with the best scenes from Will & Grace. If they were gay, they would be exactly that type of gay, like Jack McFarland to be clear. Sweet and fun, harmless and implausible.
Aside from that (I think I've already wasted quite a few characters for nothing) the Tipsy know their stuff. Seriously. They are relaxing and fun. They are ideal to play if you're spending an evening with friends and need a soft background that doesn't disturb the drinks and laughter too much. Easy listening indeed.
Then, I've always wondered, it must be frustrating to make music that, by definition, isn't supposed to be listened to, right? My God, who aspires to make elevator music? That's why I don't want to define the Tipsy like that, I mean composers for airport restrooms, it's really limiting, there's much more here. There's a lot of electronics, many 60s spy-story cinematic atmospheres and that certain cinema with grainy images that also managed to include some spicy scenes. Homes furnished in full retro-futuristic style, full of poufs to sit on and phallic Ericofon phones with the dial under the handle. You know? The sound of the Tipsy is pure modern design, vintage, always very fresh and smart, it's rich, full, syrupy, with lots of bases, synths but also guitars with centuries-long reverbs, horns, xylophones, jazz passages and so on.
It's music that anesthetizes and captivates you, that if you sit listening to it for a while you find yourself imagining being in 60s Russia as an undercover agent infiltrating Moscow high society and attending exclusive parties and beautiful Russian women for the sole purpose of stealing a phantom microchip to then take it to Jupiter aboard a pink spaceship wearing a plexiglass suit with Martini olives floating in the air.
Or maybe you simply fall asleep.
Tracklist
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