My father used to say he thought Whitney Houston had a tremendous voice but he didn’t like any of her songs. Part of rock and roll’s attraction and liberation lies in the idea that if you write good songs you don’t necessarily have to have a traditionally nice voice. Tom Waits, Bob Dylan and J Mascis are a few examples of artists whose songs are written more for their raspy voices than for anyone else to be able to sing them. (Think of Celine Dion singing Waits’ ‘Step Right Up’ or Houston anything Dinosaur Jr, or Pavarotti equaling the snarl and sarcasm of Blonde on Blonde.) Thusly, rock music often neglects aesthetic vocal beauty in favor of a passionate or evocative performance.
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Too Late To Die Young, Departure Lounge’s third release, sees them retaining the heavy dream state of previous outing Jetlag Dreams but in the guise of rock and pop songs. “I love you” initially sounds like some 1950’s oldie my Aunt Rebecca and/or Eunice would play in the minivan, its plaintive lyrics and layered, soaring harmonies bringing to mind Pet Sounds. The celebratory horns are reminiscent somehow of some New Orleans band I’ve never heard before, and as the song progresses one is treated to a punchingly giddy trumpet, a thick bass guitar, hand claps and an urban drum beat. “Tubular Belgians in my Goldfield,” for all of its picked, distorted guitar and exciting percussion also has casiotone, Theremin and electravibe being tickled with persistent fingers into making sounds like fluttering lightning bugs in the backyard, a sound that recurs throughout the entirety of the album.
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