Here, On my channel you LADISLAV, I provide information and listen to a review of samples of lost albums from the past. My only goal is to promote real art and music for some reasons that are currently unavailable according to my sources. If you are an artist or tag and you want the link to be removed, just contact me and it will be done. I would like to thank everyone. Collectors share music giving us a unique opportunity to explore Culture. THANK YOU.
A summer pouch, a blazing sun darting its rays at the sea, sparkling with a thousand lights, and already a skull slips surreptitiously in a corner, combining warmth and camarde, subtly conveying the idea of a running humanity. to its loss (cf. the “Choral” sepulchral). It is 1978 and the quartet, bearing the intriguing name of Shylock (usurer) released their second album. An ambitious and virtuoso record, also offbeat, in the middle of the punk era. It is obviously a question of progressive rock, and the thing starts strong with the title track placed in opening: 13 hallucinatory minutes between solos of guitars and prophetic synths! Rediscovered in 2019, the thing appears to herald the sound of the 1980s. An approach clearly ahead of its time sometimes adorned with experimental and pre-noise finery (the marvelous "The blood of the nasturtiums"), far removed from the song format , delivering in passing the sacrosanct dose of decibels necessary for the listener, or embracing with open arms the freedom of the jazz of the same name (cf. the swing of "Himogene"). Freedom to increase the volume of the amps, freedom taken with the verse / chorus formula, freedom finally to grope, to seek the boundaries of creativity offered by this new and strange instrument: the synth. Very probably well thought out, Shylock's music nevertheless flows like spring water cultivating the illusion of a freewheeling formation endless jamming, composing his album over the water between flashes of genius on the guitar or on the synth and funky break devastating the drums. A demanding record, in the sense that it cultivates discomfort brilliantly (cf. the ten minutes of "Laocksetal"), but also a superb musical journey which finds its natural setting in the vinyl format as it is essential to listen to the music. thing in order and in its entirety.
Une pochette estivale, un soleil de plomb dardant de ses rayons la mer, scintillant de mille feux, et, déjà, se glisse subrepticement dans un coin une tête de mort, associant chaleur et camarde, véhiculant subtilement l’idée d’une humanité courant à sa perte (cf. la sépulcrale « Choral »). Nous sommes en 1978 et le quatuor, portant le nom intriguant de Shylock (usurier) sort son deuxième album. Un disque ambitieux et virtuose, décalé aussi, en pleine époque punk. Il est évidemment question de rock progressif, et la chose commence fort avec le morceau titre placé en ouverture : 13 minutes hallucinatoires entre soli de guitares et synthés prophétiques ! Redécouvert en 2019, la chose apparaît comme annonciatrice du son des années 1980. Une approche clairement en avance sur son temps se parant parfois d’atours expérimentaux et pré-noise (la merveilleuse « Le sang des capucines »), bien éloignés du format chanson, délivrant au passage la sacro sainte dose de décibels nécessaire à l’auditeur, ou enserrant à bras ouvert la liberté du jazz du même nom (cf. le swing d’ « Himogene »). Liberté de pousser le volume des amplis, liberté prise avec la formule couplet/refrain, liberté enfin de tâtonner, de chercher les frontières de la créativité offertes par ce nouvel et étrange instrument : le synthé. Très probablement mûrement réfléchie, la musique de Shylock coule pourtant comme de l’eau de source cultivant l’illusion d’une formation en roue libre jammant sans fin, composant son album au fil de l’eau entre éclairs de génie à la guitare ou au synthé et break funky ravageurs de la batterie. Un disque exigeant, dans le sens où il cultive l’inconfort avec brio (cf. les dix minutes de « Laocksetal »), mais aussi un superbe voyage musical qui trouve son écrin naturel dans le format vinyle tant il est indispensable d’écouter la chose dans l’ordre et dans son intégralité.
Ljetna vrećica, žarko sunce koje baca zrake na more, blistajući s tisuću lampica, a već lubanja kradomice klizi u kutu, kombinirajući toplinu i kamardu, suptilno prenoseći ideju čovječanstva koje trči do svog gubitka ( usp. sepulkralnu "zborsku"). Godina je 1978. i kvartet, koji nosi intrigantno ime Shylock (kamatar), objavio je svoj drugi album. Ambiciozan i virtuozan album, također nesvakidašnji, usred punk ere. Očito je riječ o progresivnom rocku, a stvar kreće snažno s naslovnom skladbom postavljenom na otvaranju: 13 halucinantnih minuta između solo gitara i proročkih sintisajzera! Ponovno otkrivena 2019. godine, čini se da stvar najavljuje zvuk 1980-ih. Pristup očito ispred svog vremena koji je ponekad krasila eksperimentalna i predšumna finoća (čudesna "Krv nasturtija"), daleko od formata pjesme, isporučujući u prolazu sakrosanktnu dozu decibela potrebnu slušatelju ili prihvaćajući raširenih ruku slobodu istoimenog jazza (usp. zamah "Himogene"). Sloboda povećanja glasnoće pojačala, sloboda uzeta s formulom stih / refren, sloboda napokon opipavanje, traženje granica kreativnosti koje nudi ovaj novi i čudni instrument: sintetičar. Vrlo vjerojatno dobro promišljena, Shylocova glazba unatoč tome teče poput izvorske vode njegujući iluziju slobodnog kotača u beskrajnom ometanju, sastavljajući svoj album nad vodom između bljeskova genija na gitari ili na sintisajzeru i funky prekida koji razaraju bubnjeve. Zahtjevna ploča u smislu da sjajno njeguje nelagodu (usp. Deset minuta "Laocksetala"), ali i vrhunsko glazbeno putovanje koje svoje prirodno okruženje pronalazi u vinilnom formatu jer je neophodno slušati glazbu. redom i u cijelosti.
Here, On my channel you LADISLAV, I provide information and listen to a review of samples of lost albums from the past. My only goal is to promote real art and music for some reasons that are currently unavailable according to my sources. If you are an artist or tag and you want the link to be removed, just contact me and it will be done. I would like to thank everyone. Collectors share music giving us a unique opportunity to explore Culture. THANK YOU.
0 likesA summer pouch, a blazing sun darting its rays at the sea, sparkling with a thousand lights, and already a skull slips surreptitiously in a corner, combining warmth and camarde, subtly conveying the idea of a running humanity. to its loss (cf. the “Choral” sepulchral). It is 1978 and the quartet, bearing the intriguing name of Shylock (usurer) released their second album. An ambitious and virtuoso record, also offbeat, in the middle of the punk era. It is obviously a question of progressive rock, and the thing starts strong with the title track placed in opening: 13 hallucinatory minutes between solos of guitars and prophetic synths! Rediscovered in 2019, the thing appears to herald the sound of the 1980s. An approach clearly ahead of its time sometimes adorned with experimental and pre-noise finery (the marvelous "The blood of the nasturtiums"), far removed from the song format , delivering in passing the sacrosanct dose of decibels necessary for the listener, or embracing with open arms the freedom of the jazz of the same name (cf. the swing of "Himogene"). Freedom to increase the volume of the amps, freedom taken with the verse / chorus formula, freedom finally to grope, to seek the boundaries of creativity offered by this new and strange instrument: the synth. Very probably well thought out, Shylock's music nevertheless flows like spring water cultivating the illusion of a freewheeling formation endless jamming, composing his album over the water between flashes of genius on the guitar or on the synth and funky break devastating the drums. A demanding record, in the sense that it cultivates discomfort brilliantly (cf. the ten minutes of "Laocksetal"), but also a superb musical journey which finds its natural setting in the vinyl format as it is essential to listen to the music. thing in order and in its entirety.
0 likesUne pochette estivale, un soleil de plomb dardant de ses rayons la mer, scintillant de mille feux, et, déjà, se glisse subrepticement dans un coin une tête de mort, associant chaleur et camarde, véhiculant subtilement l’idée d’une humanité courant à sa perte (cf. la sépulcrale « Choral »). Nous sommes en 1978 et le quatuor, portant le nom intriguant de Shylock (usurier) sort son deuxième album. Un disque ambitieux et virtuose, décalé aussi, en pleine époque punk. Il est évidemment question de rock progressif, et la chose commence fort avec le morceau titre placé en ouverture : 13 minutes hallucinatoires entre soli de guitares et synthés prophétiques ! Redécouvert en 2019, la chose apparaît comme annonciatrice du son des années 1980. Une approche clairement en avance sur son temps se parant parfois d’atours expérimentaux et pré-noise (la merveilleuse « Le sang des capucines »), bien éloignés du format chanson, délivrant au passage la sacro sainte dose de décibels nécessaire à l’auditeur, ou enserrant à bras ouvert la liberté du jazz du même nom (cf. le swing d’ « Himogene »). Liberté de pousser le volume des amplis, liberté prise avec la formule couplet/refrain, liberté enfin de tâtonner, de chercher les frontières de la créativité offertes par ce nouvel et étrange instrument : le synthé. Très probablement mûrement réfléchie, la musique de Shylock coule pourtant comme de l’eau de source cultivant l’illusion d’une formation en roue libre jammant sans fin, composant son album au fil de l’eau entre éclairs de génie à la guitare ou au synthé et break funky ravageurs de la batterie. Un disque exigeant, dans le sens où il cultive l’inconfort avec brio (cf. les dix minutes de « Laocksetal »), mais aussi un superbe voyage musical qui trouve son écrin naturel dans le format vinyle tant il est indispensable d’écouter la chose dans l’ordre et dans son intégralité.
0 likesLjetna vrećica, žarko sunce koje baca zrake na more, blistajući s tisuću lampica, a već lubanja kradomice klizi u kutu, kombinirajući toplinu i kamardu, suptilno prenoseći ideju čovječanstva koje trči do svog gubitka ( usp. sepulkralnu "zborsku"). Godina je 1978. i kvartet, koji nosi intrigantno ime Shylock (kamatar), objavio je svoj drugi album. Ambiciozan i virtuozan album, također nesvakidašnji, usred punk ere. Očito je riječ o progresivnom rocku, a stvar kreće snažno s naslovnom skladbom postavljenom na otvaranju: 13 halucinantnih minuta između solo gitara i proročkih sintisajzera! Ponovno otkrivena 2019. godine, čini se da stvar najavljuje zvuk 1980-ih. Pristup očito ispred svog vremena koji je ponekad krasila eksperimentalna i predšumna finoća (čudesna "Krv nasturtija"), daleko od formata pjesme, isporučujući u prolazu sakrosanktnu dozu decibela potrebnu slušatelju ili prihvaćajući raširenih ruku slobodu istoimenog jazza (usp. zamah "Himogene"). Sloboda povećanja glasnoće pojačala, sloboda uzeta s formulom stih / refren, sloboda napokon opipavanje, traženje granica kreativnosti koje nudi ovaj novi i čudni instrument: sintetičar. Vrlo vjerojatno dobro promišljena, Shylocova glazba unatoč tome teče poput izvorske vode njegujući iluziju slobodnog kotača u beskrajnom ometanju, sastavljajući svoj album nad vodom između bljeskova genija na gitari ili na sintisajzeru i funky prekida koji razaraju bubnjeve. Zahtjevna ploča u smislu da sjajno njeguje nelagodu (usp. Deset minuta "Laocksetala"), ali i vrhunsko glazbeno putovanje koje svoje prirodno okruženje pronalazi u vinilnom formatu jer je neophodno slušati glazbu. redom i u cijelosti.
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