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Dawn of Delight Talitres

Tropical Popsicle

With a name like Tropical Popsicle, I really wanted to like this band. I thought Dawn of Delight would be summery, joyous, and resplendent in its saccharine brilliance. I thought wrong. Unfortunately, much like an actual ice lolly, once you’ve had a lick of Tropical Popsicle, you realise that the first taste is all there is to it - sure it’s nice, but it ends up totally transparent by the end. It seems like too many bands, this one included, get so bogged down in creating that ‘perfect vibe’, that they forget to write any songs. Dawn of Delight ticks the psychedelic resurgence box so hard that they may as well have called the record Surrealistic Pillow 2013 Edition and be done with it. But they didn’t, and Dawn of Delight is boring because so many people have done it better. I’ve got no problem with the sixties vibe, but Tropical Popsicle face the problem that Tame Impala and Foxygen can write interesting music, whereas there’s so little development on most of the tracks on Dawn of Delight that you can completely zone out after the first 20 seconds of each, with fair a confidence that nothing will have changed by the end. It’s incredibly passive music, and maybe it’s just because I don’t take drugs, but the repetitive nature is just too monotonous to provoke any reaction. But even with that said, much like the aforementioned ice lolly, you’ll still probably grab Tropical Popsicle at the first sight of sun, sit outside with it, and be deliriously happy for a few minutes. Alex Trossell

Te Experimental Tropic

Blues Band Liquid Love JauneOrange/Modulor/ Essential

Te album begins with a messy ensemble of notes and instruments clashing together to form no foreseeable tune… one soon evolves however within the cacophony of mangled sounds and the upbeat brash nature of the song evolves; a theme present in nearly each of their songs. Despite this, each song contains its own individuality amidst the throng of similarities. Te cover is not strewn with hidden meanings of abstract ideals, it is merely a simplistic picture taken outside of a club appearing to imitate the life and fervour that is their music. Te Experimental Tropic Blues Band is exactly what it says on the cover, experimental and tropic in the atmospheres it creates and the music it has produced. Te entire album is raw with its unedited music that makes the album appear fresh. Te lack of auto-tuned editions still containing background sounds makes their music rare and unique. Te album may not be the epitome of versatility, but the experimentation of adding different genres would seem wrong. It is an album of specified sounds; new editions would seem outlandish and inane. Te constant mash of instruments turns rather repetitive and monotonous, slowly increasing in unpleasantness as the songs progress. Regardless of this, by straying away from music that seems refined to an unnatural perfection, an album has been created that is appealing in the rawness of the songs and the talent of the musicians. Hanna Huzel-Steele

Miracle Temple Merge Records

Mount Moriah have lit a fire in their own barn. I’m not talking only about their dramatic artwork for this, their second album, but I’m talking about the way they have spurned the social limitations that North Carolina might have tried to impress upon them, and further still, vociferously protested the alternatives. Tat could be said more of their stunning eponymous debut, which stamped its foot and swam against the tide of its Carolinian heritage by asserting opinions on relationships, gender and social convention. It delivered all the album’s barbed utterances with cutting lyrics and Heather McEntire’s emotive vocal – a voice that is almost polyphonic in its ability to convey the whole range of human emotions all at once. “A mouth full of bees couldn’t stop me from whispering ‘I don’t love you’”, McEntire spat on the 2011 album. Tis offering, however, stuns me with its traditionalism. Calling more on country-rock than their former allegiance to country-blues, it’s just - too – country. I feel sad to say it; tracks ‘Rosemary’ and ‘Swannanoa’ blend into each other with the same predictable pace of country and every time guest drummer James Wallace comes crashing in with a lazy du-du-du-duh roll, my eyes follow suit. Only ‘Miracle Temple Holiness’ marks a change in the album, employing the gospel roots of their state as they’ve done so effectively before, but it comes too late. I want to listen to the lyrics, I need to understand the emotion behind McEntire’s delivery, but I can’t hear it. I look out over North Carolina and all I see for miles – is country.Emma Garwood

Mount Moriah / March 2013 / 41

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