NTTR - No Time to Review

This is the kind of album I enjoy almost immediately. And then I start noticing how familiar everything is. “House by the Grave” is probably the best example of what works. The organ adds colour, the riff has weight, the middle section actually develops, and the final stretch feels like a real escalation rather than another loop. That is strong. The title track is more direct and slightly more metal-oriented. The groove is good, and there is enough movement to stop it becoming pure retro-doom repetition. “When Evil Wakes” might be even more fun. The rhythm has more swing, the saxophone gives the track another texture, and the whole thing feels less boxed into the normal Uncle Acid formula. “Don’t Let It Control You” is short and useful because it breaks the pacing. I like that. “Psycho on the Loose” has a strong hook, but this is also where I start hearing the template too clearly. Fuzz. Organ. Creepy vocal. Repetition. Vintage horror atmosphere. It works. But it works...

 I know exactly what this is after a few seconds. That is reassuring. And slightly limiting. “Guardstones” has all the ingredients I expect: flute, synth layers, bass movement, guitar, a gradual rhythmic lift. It sounds good. Very good, actually. But I am not discovering much. “Space Platform” is tighter and more energetic. The groove works, the guitar cuts through nicely, and the track moves quickly. Still, I can almost predict the next texture before it arrives. That happens a lot here. “Harmonic Mind” is the strongest piece because it has room to breathe. The rhythm changes, the guitar becomes more melodic, the synths open up, then the track drifts before finding another pulse. That is where Ozric Tentacles are still very effective. The transitions feel natural. “Malachite” changes the colour enough to keep me interested. The acoustic guitar helps because it breaks the otherwise very synthetic surface. “Tillamook” is probably the most interesting track. It feels ...

There are a lot of ideas here. Probably too many. The title track tells me almost immediately what Modern Woman want to do. Nervous rhythm, theatrical vocal, violin, sudden changes in texture. It is distinctive. But distinction is not enough. “Neptune Girl” is shorter and easier to follow, yet I already start hearing the formula: quiet versus loud, pretty versus abrasive, controlled versus chaotic. The contrasts are supposed to keep me alert. Instead, after a while, I start waiting for the next contrast. “Offerings” works better because the movement feels connected to the song rather than added on top of it. “Killing A Dog” is interesting too, but Sophie Harris’ vocal style dominates so much that I sometimes hear the performance more than the melody. That happens several times here. “Daniel” is one of the moments I prefer because everything becomes simpler. Less showing, more space. The song benefits immediately. “Fork/Heart” goes back in the other direction. Folk texture,...

Brittany Howard can make almost anything sound important. That is both the strength and the problem here. “Tea Time” starts well. The rhythm has weight, the atmosphere is darker than expected, and for a few minutes I think Alabama Shakes may really have found a new direction. “Another Life” confirms some of that promise. The song has space, Howard does not over-sing, and the band sounds like a band again rather than a vehicle for one huge voice. “Garden” is attractive too, but this is where I start noticing that the production is doing a lot of the work. I like the sound of it more than I remember the song. “I Feel Hope Coming” is even more obvious. Everything is warm, polished and well arranged. Maybe too well arranged. It has the architecture of an uplifting soul anthem, but I can hear the intention before I feel the emotion. That immediately lowers the impact for me. “Time” is another one where atmosphere replaces momentum. Nothing is wrong. But not enough is happening. ...

This is a great idea. I am just not sure it remains a great idea for fifty-two minutes. The opening is immediately striking. “Hallucinogen” takes the language of trance and strips away almost everything I normally associate with it. No kick drum, no synth bass, no club percussion. Just organ. And strangely, I can still hear the dancefloor underneath. That is the clever part. The problem is that once I understand the trick, the rest of the album has to become more than the trick. “Atlantis” is beautiful. The repeated notes merge into a continuous surface, and the room itself becomes part of the music. I can hear why people compare this to ambient and minimalism rather than simply to electronic music. “Everytime” is more direct and probably one of the tracks where the concept works best. The trance reference is obvious, but the organ changes the emotional temperature completely. It becomes more solemn, almost devotional. “La Paloma” is probably even stronger. There is more move...

The Tubs have a good trick: bright guitars, quick rhythms, catchy melodies, then lyrics that are much more miserable than the music suggests. It works immediately. “Hard Life” is lively enough, and “Who’s Gonna Love You Now?” has the kind of hook that makes the bitterness underneath feel sharper. But by the third or fourth track, I already know the mechanism. That is the problem. “If You Don’t Love Me” is one of the better songs because the sadness feels more specific. The melody has enough weight to survive without the lyrical contrast. “Stoop to Me” is energetic, but it also sounds very familiar. I hear the band’s influences almost before I hear the band themselves. “Heaven or London” is interesting lyrically, but musically it does not move far enough away from the established formula. “Didn’t I Say?” is fine. That word becomes dangerous here. Fine. A lot of the album is fine. “Do Yourself a Favor” is a smart cover choice because it temporarily changes the texture, but I ...

 I understand why this is getting excellent reviews. I just do not think I want to listen to it nearly as much as I admire it. Open Mike Eagle has built the whole album around the collapse of a relationship, and there is a lot of very precise writing here. Small humiliations, arguments, memories, attempts to make sense of something that clearly does not make sense anymore. That part works. Kenny Segal works too. The production is understated but detailed: dusty keys, muted jazz textures, thick drums, strange little synth figures. He gives Eagle exactly enough space without turning the record into forty minutes of spoken-word melancholy. The problem is that I often hear the idea of the song more clearly than the song itself. “Unfinished Concrete Initials” is a perfect example. The image is excellent. Two people trying to leave something permanent behind, then the relationship disappearing while the concrete remains. Very Open Mike Eagle. Very clever. But once I understand th...