"No Boogie-Woogie Piano, Mr. Holland, otherwise The Fall will not appear."

Fiz um pacto com a prostituição para semear a desordem nas famílias

Wake Up Pretty

A Sunny Day In Glasgow - Scribble Mural Comic Journal

A Sunny Day in Glasgow’s first full-length album is an intriguing collection of dreamy, haunting pop songs and sound-sketches, its title perhaps a neat allusion to the impressionistic and transitory sound the Philadelphia-based trio debuted on their 2006 EP, C’mon, most of which is included here. As befits a family project — the band consists of a brother and two sisters — there’s an intimate, almost hermetic feel to the recording, traces of footsteps and traffic sound lingering in the mix. Lauren and Robin Daniels’ perfectly matched voices echo around brother Ben’s shimmering guitars, keys and beats as if speaking a private sibling language. While the gentle dissonance, layered vocals, and liberal use of delay bring to mind contemporaries Animal Collective, Grizzly Bear and CocoRosie, A Sunny Day in Glasgow also draws upon the shoegaze bands of the early '90s, especially Lush, Slowdive, and the Pale Saints, along with occasional nods to the fuzzed-up excesses of My Bloody Valentine or the Jesus and Mary Chain. This is a seam of influence that bands were sure to start mining sooner or later, but A Sunny Day in Glasgow do so with an assured and affectionate touch. The band also steps outside the shoegaze template with interesting results: "Number 6 Von Karman Street" is based around a gentle acid-house rhythm, recalling both 808 State and the poignant, sub-aquatic disco of Arthur Russell. On "A Mundane Phonecall to Jack Parsons" and "Our Change into Rain Is No Change at All (Talkin’ ‘Bout Us)," distorted motorik beats booms beneath percussive keyboards and precise vocals that echo Stereolab or the deliciously impersonal singing of Broadcast’s Trish Keenan. In fact, Broadcast’s presence recurs throughout the album, not only in the retro-futurist feel of the harmonies on "Things Only I Can See," but also in the spacious, radiophonic production, with its bursts of atmospheric noise and echoing, galloping drums. This, in turn, is a nod to production pioneers Joe Meek and Phil Spector, key references that confirm A Sunny Day in Glasgow’s place in the psychedelic bubblegum.

Frances May Morgan, no emusic, faz a melhor descrição para a estreia dos A Sunny Day In Glasgow em formato longo, disco dificil de descrever em palavras mas cuja audição é absolutamente necessária, sob risco de se perder algo tão intrigante, apaixonante e reconfortante como alguns dos melhores albuns dos Cocteau Twins. Chapterhouse for the 21st Century...? Welcome back, Dreampop!

Last Year's Rain Didn't Fall Quite So Hard

The Twilight Sad - Fourteen Autumns and Fifteen Winters

Voz com carregado scottish accent e maneira folksy sublinhada pelo som intermitente de um acordeão, fica, numa primeira audição, a impressão de que Fourteen Autumns and Fifteen Winters é apenas mais um álbum que junta os condimentos acima num caldo rock com algumas muralhas noise. Desenganem-se. O álbum estreia dos Twilight Sad é um épico cujo sotaque e maneira que nos prendem à terra da Escócia, sobem às nuvens, carregadas e frias, pintadas por pianos em repetição e guitarras em distorção e descem por montanhas esculpidas em batidas marciais, acompanhadas, nas subidas e descidas, pela voz de um arqueiro que nos atinge a alma, esse sitio abstracto que os grandes discos atingem, que os grandes músicos definem.
É por isso companhia essencial para os dias de chuva fria nesta cidade cinzenta, a fuga para as terras altas, para o verde que também os Twilight Sad não encontram em Glasgow; é neste espaço gigantesco e brutal que Fourteen Autumns and Fifteen Winters nos abre as portas à intimidade que implica uma revisita à adolescência e é este o crossroad onde se unem post-rock Explosions in The Sky, shoegaze My Bloody Valentine e o coração dos Whipping Boy.

Why do they come when you're always raining?
Why can't they make a sound?
And seeing the other ones fall back down.

Because you're so far from home,
And you're wailing. (…)

Walking For Two Hours
by The Twilight Sad