But there had been evenings that ran in the color of songs where one gathered themselves, immersed, hands resting on knees, peasant simple and devoted to quiet drinking by the guitars. KENNETH MINOR beats against the wind of history and shows that the music itself, against all novelties and trends, still holds the same old formula. The power of the melody of life cannot be countered - neither by the pomp and circumstance of the fashion disciples nor by the tits-and-ass parade of superstars and superstarlettes. Nothing could counter the immediacy of when a song cuts time in step and douses the world with dazzling color.
The word, the single rattling guitar in the tambourine tempest - so bare, so blatant, so direct and resounding, the aural essence as a musical slap in the face hits the monocles off of the Zeitgeist noses of theorizationists and modernity apostles and makes the band, revolving around Bird Christiani, a real happening. Read more on Last.fm. User-contributed text is available under the Creative Commons By-SA License; additional terms may apply..
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