“A collection of profound and epic album reviews and musical articles by former astronaut and brain surgeon, Alasdair Kennedy. Reaching levels of poetry that rival Keats and Blake, the following reviews affirm Alasdair to be a prodigy, a genius and a god whose opinion is always objectively right. He is also without a doubt the most modest man in the universe.” - Alasdair Kennedy
bellbottoms on and groom that afro 'cos disco is back with a vengeance. Spacey
seventies synths and string sections ride funky house beats to create a
neo-disco sound similar in vein to Daft Punk’s Random Access Memories (Read Review Here), only more epic, more
instrumental and more hi-octane. Norwegian dance producer, Todd Terje, has had
this album brewing in the pipeline for almost a decade. I only discovered the dude
a year ago so the wait hasn’t been as frustratingly long as I imagine it has
been for some people. Does this album justify the ten years it took to make? I’d
answer yes, it does.
thing’s first, this album isn’t subtle. It’s ridiculously overblown and it
knows it, demonstrated by the first track ‘intro’, which ends with chants of ‘its
album time!’ followed by the sound effect of an explosion. Its then that the moogs
enter the mix. So many moogs. All the moogs.
A wild moog
These multiple moogs
are arranged into dazzling symphonies that flow brilliantly into one another, continuously
switching between different grooves. Strandbar was the track that got me into Todd
Terje – a samba house anthem that steadily evolves into latin/rave staccato
pianos. The version on the album has been trimmed down from its lengthy eight
minute single version to a more succinct four and a half minute portion. Midway through the record, comes
the Bryan Ferry synthesizer ballad, Johnny
and Mary, a track that I didn’t particularly care for the first time I heard
it. It’s not a particularly upbeat song. In fact, when you listen to the lyrics
you realise it’s pretty damn depressing. However, its place in the album is
perfectly timed, bringing the pace down to let the listener breathe and reflect.
It’s a crazy mood change that somehow works.
start to simmer off towards the middle-end, although the album does end on a
bang – the seven minute funk monster, ‘Inspector Norse’. The teasing build up is
what makes this track and many of the other tracks. There aren’t any drops on this album as of such. No buildupbuildbuildup... WUBWUBWUB moments. Instead, its all buildupbuildupbuildup - cool progression - buildupbuildupbuildup. Maybe that’s what makes this album so refreshing.
speaking, It’s Album Time is nothing
new. It’s the Giorgio Moroder sound, polished up with modern production. What
stops this album from being another serving of plain old retro is Terje’s
ability to take all the best parts of seventies synth-heavy disco and arrange
them seamlessly in a way that no-one else ever has.