Review Proofreading Thread

[Skimaskcheck]

Predominantly, Madlib is recognized because his collaboration with MF Doom, that is, Hip-Hop’s quintessential album, Madvillainy.

Change this, it's awkward. Maybe to something like 'Predominantly, Madlib is recognized because of his collaboration with MF Doom on Madvillainy - one of Hip-Hop’s quintessential albums.'

Also, I'd suggest using speech marks or apostrophes to highlight track names.

Other then it looks good to me on first scan, and sounds good too!

[Ghostechoes]

Thanks! I'll change that, it'll read much better.

[SeaAnemone]

Ghastly City Sleep - Moondrifts

4.0

When the dust settled after the dissolution of screamo heavyweights,City of Caterpillar, Majority Rule, and pg. 99 a colossal amount of energy and creativity was displaced. In the wake of their collapse, former members strived to find new creative outlets. Ghastly City Sleep was born out of the displaced elements of these genre-defining bands. The emotional outbursts that seemed to erupt so passionately from City of Caterpillar or so aggressively from pg. 99 became “influences” rather than the “next big thing,” and who would have thought that the members of these fallen greats would continue in a band so mellifluous, relaxing, and with an uncanny knack for melody? Ghastly City Sleep remains a group that demands an intense emotional engagement from the listener, even if the means to this end differs so greatly from what the members were used to. Relying on atmosphere, whispery vocals, and creative melodies, Ghastly City Sleep produces somber post-rock pieces that add up to a mesmerizing and fulfilling whole- in this case, Moondrifts.

With their self-titled 2007 EP, Ghastly City Sleep crafted four songs that successfully lured the listener in with intrigue. Wave after wave of atmospheric synths and drums were perfectly calculated to erupt into a tidal-wave sized climax. Yet, Ghastly City Sleep differs from members’ past projects in their ability to construct a comprehensive experience that relies much more on the overall feeling being portrayed rather than singular moments, as it was with pg. 99 or City of Caterpillar. This style is very indicative of the sharp transition to post-rock, and only little tastes of it were given on Ghastly City Sleep. Impressive as it was, 4 songs can only go so far. In 2010, we can see the full extent of Ghastly City Sleep’s transformation. Promising signs have morphed into products, and optimistic indications are now results. Moondrifts, at its crux, is an exciting expansion of everything that made their debut EP so spectacular.

Moondrifts doesn’t feel incredibly innovative when compared to Ghastly City Sleep, yet it feels undoubtedly better. The airy vocals and haunting atmosphere still serve to beautify the album in every way possible, as before; though Moondrifts succeeds by triumphing on a larger scale- a 10-song album. Shocking with splendor and grandiosity seems to be a trend in post-rock these days. Instead, Ghastly City Sleep plan to lull you to sleep, abduct you into Moondrifts, and subject you to some spellbinding ****. You come out on the other side muttering to yourself, “Did that just happen?” My case in point is “No No No No.” With a slowly building intro with vocals, soft and light as can be, Ghastly City Sleep lure the listener in- only to subdue him with the dissonant and weird sounds of some other planet. The effect can only (and I mean only, because this is obviously a comparison to stay far away from) be compared to the mesmerizing and sometimes terrifying effect of Kid A. Ending the song with more straightforward talking, “This is just a dream, this is just a no no no no...” the lyrics and manner of speech couldn’t better complement the song.

The emotional effects of Moondrifts are clear and precise, and Ghastly City Sleep are scarily efficient and consistent at tugging on your nerves. On the other hand, the band displays their ability to perfectly craft songs that leave your mouth agape in wonder. “Billowing” is perhaps the group’s single best song to date. More conventional in the sense that it relies heavily on the vocal melody, “Billowing” takes a free-flowing approach to achieve, once again, a haunting effect. “Pent up black clouds... billowing again...” is repeated over a weary piano until the song builds to an echoing, crashing crescendo. Not every song is satisfying though, as seen in the valley in the middle, “1994 (it’s a weird world)” and “I Suppose.” Here, Ghastly City Sleep get a bit lazy and the effects, ambience, and wandering doesn’t result in much productivity. Instead of meandering aimlessly, like on these tracks, Ghastly City Sleep perform best when they seek out a clear objective.

A much different side of Ghastly City Sleep can be seen on Moondrifts too, especially with the lively “Farewell My Friend.” Comparisons seem useless, as they carve a path all their own. Vocals are a larger facet of the mixture, and “Just holding on...” provides a nice lyrical backbone to the song, in a more “loudly talked” tone. From the promising 4-song EP produced a few years ago, the band has definitely incorporated some impressive aspects that only further their already-perfected haunting melodies- visible in songs like “Farewell My Friend” and “No No No No.” To claim that every melody on here is ingeniously crafted to the point of perfection is obviously hyperbole; but the waves of melancholy, of climactic beauty, of poignant simplicity serve to make me feel this is the case at times on Moondrifts.

Approaching Moondrifts, you'd best be careful to remember that the band doesn’t derive from straightforward post-rock roots, and therefore expect anything but your run-of-the-mill post-rock record. In this sense, Moondrifts has the potential to be divisive, but those who pass up the spectacular release due to misguided expectations will be missing out... not only on Ghastly City Sleep realizing their potential, but what has the potential to be one of the most solid albums of the year.

___________

criticism appreciated!

[MichaelJordan]

I would rearrange some of the parts of the first three sentences

When the dust settled after the dissolution of screamo heavyweights City of Caterpillar, Majority Rule, and pg. 99...

then the next sentence should be

In the wake of their collapse, their former members had to find new creative outlets.

and then

Ghastly City Sleep was born out of the displaced elements of these genre-defining bands.

Change this part of the one sentence

the outcome of these fallen greats would result in a band

to

the members of these fallen greats would combine to form a band

"mellifluous"...wow, even I had to look that one up. Awesome word. also, maybe go with this with reference to the "demand"

an intense emotional engagement

change "Reliant" to "Relying"

"such as with pg. 99 or City of Caterpillar" ------> "as it was with pg. 99 or City of Caterpillar"

change "we’re made privy to" (it's a public release, I'm guessing...this only makes sense if it's a sort of exclusive thing) to "we can witness"

I will look this over more later but that's a start

[SeaAnemone]

yeah I agree, thanks for the help on those first sentences... I tried a few ways but they still sound awkward.

[Japan]

"you best be careful

i think "you'd" would be better

...lull you to sleep, abduct you into Moondrifts

that reads awkwardly to me

"Ghastly City Sleep get a bit lazy and the effects.."|

I think "Here, Ghastly City...." would read better, also in the next few sentences you seem to keep mentioning the band name, it just seems like you overuse it, maybe substitute it and use "they" or "the band" or whatever

just my two cents

[SeaAnemone]

all good suggestions! thanks!

[robertsona]

written for school magazine really fast


Bloody Panda's Summon was released to almost unanimously positive reviews last year, and it's easy to see why: would anyone except the most fervent admirers of the underground doom metal scene bother listening to a band called "Bloody Panda"? Okay, maybe that's giving the band less credit than they deserve: to be fair, Summon is a pretty consistently engaging and delectably bleak metal release--one that managed to sway a skeptical listener like me. Though I wouldn't consider myself a "doom metal aficionado", I leaped up at the chance to listen to this album (presented to me by good friend and school librarian Benjamin Moss), more out of pure curiosity than anything else.

And, you guessed it, I was indeed pleasantly surprised. It's not as if the album presented something radically different than what I expected. Crushing riffs and tortured vocals had, after all, been a staple of what little doom metal I had listened to prior. Still, in spite of all the ridiculous aspects--the band name, the juxtaposition of a petite female vocalist with a bunch of dudes in robes, the deliberately "avant-garde" album cover, etc.--that surrounded it, it simply worked. For a band that seems to want you to not take it seriously, these New Yorkers have done a pretty great job of convincing you that this music was the result of total involvement in their own dark world.

This great strength, however, also acts as Summon's greatest flaw--it doesn't let up on a concept and aesthetic that will only appeal to a small group. This is why Bloody Panda may never reach a larger audience than their underground fanbase; only a small percentage of people will bother listening to the thing, and even those who do may find it difficult to listen to the whole thing. Especially with tracks like the 21-minute "Miserere", Summon can be a little too unrelenting and is best listened to in small segments--anything else might cause sudden antisocial or grim behavior.

thnx

[MichaelJordan]

replace the second colon with a period and make the second part a new sentence. Colons should be used sparingly. plus, that would make your second sentence really "punchy" (I hate that term but it's true).

I don't know how important it is to say that the school librarian presented you this opportunity, either. Even if it is appropriate, I don't think it's necessary to say he's your friend.

this sentence is unmanageably long:

It's not as if the album presented something radically different than what I expected--crushing riffs and tortured vocals had been a staple of what little doom metal I had listened to prior--but, in spite of all the ridiculous aspects (the band name, the juxtaposition of a petite female vocalist with a bunch of dudes in robes, the deliberately "avant-garde" album cover, et al.) that surrounded it, it simply worked.

make it this:

It's not as if the album presented something radically different than what I expected. Crushing riffs and tortured vocals had, after all, been a staple of what little doom metal I had listened to prior. Still, in spite of all the ridiculous aspects--the band name, the juxtaposition of a petite female vocalist with a bunch of dudes in robes, the deliberately "avant-garde" album cover, etc.--that surrounded it, it simply worked.

the reason I would put "etc." instead of "et al." (et alia/and others) is that et al. is usually reserved for listing a series of proper nouns, like saying that certain authors wrote about this (X, Y, Z, et al.)

"NYC-ians" ---------> "New Yorkers"

This great strength, however, is simultaneously Summon's greatest flaw

otherwise very good

[robertsona]

I don't know how important it is to say that the school librarian presented you this opportunity, either. Even if it is appropriate, I don't think it's necessary to say he's your friend.

half-joke, anyone who reads the paper will probably get a small chuckle. 'need to be there', i guess?

otherwise thanks so much. the fact that i said 'NYC-ians' is kind of bothering me right now.

edit: just to clarify, this was written for a school paper (i said that in the earlier post but im not sure you caught that--that's why i mentioned the librarian, yea?)

[MichaelJordan]

these are just some suggested edits to SeaAnemone's latest review

It’s funny how the passing of time has the power to change music so distinctly. Of course, I make it no secret that I’m partial to music that’s managed to remain untouched by the pitiless effects of aging. The directness of a first impression, rarely clouded with uncertainty or ambiguity, is seductive when approaching an album. It’s difficult, however, to retain steadfast assertions after years of listening because my ears tend to register mixed feelings. Conflicts begin to arise, as the lingering ghosts of past opinions haunt the living doubts that gather as soon as I start to recognize an album’s flaws.

And yet, for all this, some albums age so gracefully. Jawbox’s For Your Own Special Sweetheart is a stunning example of the ability of some music to stand up to the caustic gaze of retrospection. Even at the time, what could have gone down as an utter failure turned out to brashly prove doubters and purists wrong. The cards were stacked against Jawbox. Making the jump from hardcore-royalty Dischord to big-name mainstream Atlantic Records could very well have been the musical equivalent of the BP oil spill. Rather, For Your Own Special Sweetheart avoided these pitfalls, and has since aged into something even more beautiful, a balancing act of epic proportions. Catchy but dissonant, both furious and fun, Jawbox’s opus is a testament to the blending of distinct cultures and styles to create something unquestionably unique yet unapologetically familiar.

For Your Own Special Sweetheart’s beauty lies not in the separate elements it borrows from traditional hardcore or alternative music, but instead in the band’s expertise in harmonizing these various aspects. Jawbox succeed in creating a work that will always be regarded as the innovative source of new influence rather than the derivative sum of its own influences. The flawless execution and combination of chunky riffs a la twin guitars, punchy, pummeling percussion, J. Robbins’ bare, clean vocals, and Kim Coletta’s skeletal bass-lines are irreconcilably ferocious and focused, sending chills down both the spines of distraught Dischord fans and a new, larger audience alike. Sweetheart’s real specialty, though, prevails in Jawbox’s ability to render notions like “harmony” and “dissonance” futile as descriptors, synchronizing the two together to the brink of discomfort in the band’s exhilarating and profound third full-length. Dually beautiful and melancholic, Sweetheart attains extraordinary levels of elegance through their tight, restrained, and disarmingly simple post-hardcore anthems like “FF=66,” “Savory,” “Cooling Card,” among a host of others. Instead of drowning itself in pressure and significance, the music feels unabashedly fun throughout, and paradoxically becomes all the more significant because of it. Simple aspects like Robbins’ vocal lines are seamlessly forged together with complexities like the ever-shifting guitars and shaky reverb, and manage never to lose a bit of personality and charisma in the process. As time goes by, the record becomes inevitably worn, and detail after detail of the album are extrapolated, yet the charm of Sweetheart’s intimacy is never diminished. The controversy once surrounding Jawbox’s “sell-out” to a major label has become laughably trivial as a decade and a half has shown that for Jawbox the real fervor lies in the unrelenting ferocity of the album, not which label released it.

Legions of post-hardcore and non-post-hardcore alike have cited Jawbox as a major influence in their music. Some have proven themselves worthy of the influence, while others not so much. Once again, this fact serves as another testament to Time’s kind enhancement of Sweetheart. The hazy pinkish woman underneath the “Jawbox” on the cover has morphed into somewhat of a symbol for me. The clashing elements that define the cover in dazzling manner (not unlike the music itself) remind me of time’s powerful effect on art and it’s ability to make Sweetheart the irrevocable classic that it remains today; not through an immediate likability (though it does have that), but rather through the timelessness of the sound-clash between hardcore aesthetics and alt-rock tendencies that Jawbox claimed for themselves.

The immaculate bending of original cultures and sounds that birthed Sweetheart are somewhat lost in the process of the album’s conception, but looking back on how Sweetheart’s fared over the many years it’s impossible to mourn this loss. Instead, celebrate the new, sensational movement born out of the raucous chord changes and furious riffage that inhabit the album. As Sweetheart begins to unwind itself over time, year after year, listen after listen, a magnificent album is slowly revealed. It’s been a while since Jawbox’s most heralded and controversial album was released. In comparison, as years surely pass and some of this year’s now-exalted albums are bound to fall behind bookshelves to be forgotten, time will surely take vengeance on the undeserving recipients of today’s praises, claiming them only ephemeral masterpieces. But time has spoken- balancing tension and dissonance with masterful restraint and an air free of pretension rarely manages to sound half as magnificent as For Your Own Special Sweetheart, and it’s pretty clear what Time’s verdict is on the album.

it's a great review, and i love the problem you're articulating, but i just had a problem with a little of the structure and one of the metaphors you used

if you'd want to use any of it, reenter some of the italics and whatnot

[Bulldog]

If anybody would like to proof my review for Lil B's "Roses Exodus" before I submit it, that would be great.

Brandon McCartney - or as we best know him, Lil B - is a godfather unaccredited and unrecognized.In 2005, the rapper from Berkeley, California blew up alongside his The Pack groupmates with the hit single “Vans”. The catchy ode to the brand of skating shoe was insanely popular, and was a catalyst that helped spark up the dance/snap rap movement that is still alive and well today. But just as fast as they rose, they fell, and Lil B went with them. Through the years, dance rap artists and their hits came and went, and in the meantime, Lil B and his bandmates were nowhere to be found, but recently, that’s all changed. Lil B has exploded in the last few months; he’s tight with Soulja Boy, he’s garnered blogs’ worth of devoted fans and 31,000+ followers on Twitter, and he’s simultaneously revered and despised. But right now, he’s one of the best rappers in the game, and you can bet your *** I mean that. On the off chance you know Lil B as a solo artist, you probably know him for his “b*tches suck my d*ck ‘cause I look like ____” line, being sucker punched during an interview, and/or that one “f*ck Justin Bieber, I’m Hannah Montana” song. You may think he’s your typical mainstream idiot-rapper, but with Roses Exodus you can take everything you thought you knew about Lil B (and perhaps even hip-hop) and throw it out the window.

On Roses Exodus, we find a Lil B far removed from his fun, trademarked based raps where he can be heard hilariously referring to himself as a lesbian, bragging about ejaculating into a woman’s hair, and rapping about other outlandish things of the sort. No, here we find a morally inquisitive and intellectually charged Based God that is sure to please even those who find some of his choice lyrics to be ridiculous, offensive, and amateur. Sure, he occasionally delves into discussing his purported rescue of hip-hop from certain peril, but largely, Lil B can be found introspectively musing, uttering eccentric metaphors, and conveying disappointment in humanity. On “Sun and Snow (Remix)” he portrays humans as creatures of selfish nature through an almost vegan stance, stating that humans are wrong for thinking it’s acceptable to kill another animal and eat it, and even wrong to think it’s okay to because they think they’re better. Through sentiments like this, Lil B proves himself to be a legitimate gentle soul, a pleasing rarity in a time in which rappers involve themselves in hyper-masculine posturing and billionaire lifestyle bravado. Although Lil B may seem to leave some thoughts incomplete, and thusly, seem stupid, he’s actually creating room for interpretation. A fill-in-the-blank attitude is somewhat adopted throughout the record, and it makes for a more engaging album which at times can seem like a little puzzle.

Never one to conform, Lil B’s flow throughout his solo career always defied the typical AABB…hip-hop delivery, but on Roses Exodus, his flow is exceptionally bizarre. Rather than steadily streaming, Lil B pops in and out of the songs to dictate his based poetry throughout the course of the record. But the manner in which he presents those lyrics is truly what makes this album work. His delivery is other-worldly and his voice is dipped in raw passion. He recites his lyrics as if he had his head in the clouds and, unlike many rappers, sounds like he actually cares.

To compliment his dazed mindset, Lil B crafts a wonderfully atmospheric set of beats. A beautifully textured, distinctive combination of ambient and IDM, the production is perfect for Lil B’s dreamy demeanor and disappearing and reappearing vocals. Instrumentals range from trippy and psychedelic (the sharp, operatic strings, oozy, whirring synths, and slimy, boinging bass guitar on “Truth and War” change decibel frequencies just like Lil B changes vocal tempos) to beautiful and dark (the gentle acoustic noodling and thundering, menacing organs of “Sun and Snow (Remix)” make for a pretty, but black track), and Lil B sounds fantastic over everything.

But what’s most surprising (for those who are familiar with Lil B) is that Roses Exodus is Lil B’s most accessible record. Despite its quirkiness, it’s way more cohesive than Lil B’s other albums, which are just sloppy (but good) compilations of previously released YouTube material. Moreover, Lil B is sincere, thoughtful, and pure, something many, many rappers cannot claim to be. After all, who wears the same pair of Vans for four years rather than brand-spanking-new Jordans? Who dons African bead necklaces rather than diamond-encrusted chains? Who tweets good wishes to their fans and their fans’ families on an early, early Saturday morning when most rappers are downing shots and courting women? Lil B, that’s who, and if you think Lil B sucks, Roses Exodus will stop you in your tracks, and make you say, “Damn, I was wrong.”

[TheSpirit]

Just the intro paragraph so far but I'd like some feedback if anyone is kind enough to take a gander

On all accounts Heinali & Matt Finney's first 2010 EP Town Line was a somber affair; to match the scathing political war commentary of spoken word artist Mathew Finney, (of ambient/experimental duo Finneyerkes) Ukrainian born and self taught ambient composer Heinali provided bountiful amounts of diverse symphonic textures, all to truly heartbreaking degrees. Despite it's deceptively pleasant name, the pair's second 2010 EP entitled Lemonade sees Finney getting dangerously personal-- with himself. And all to the backdrop of a beautifully bleak ambient soundscape.

[TheSpirit]

Once again the intro paragraph for an upcoming review for the Peaking Lights 'Imaginary Falcons' (rating is 4 and genre of group is ambient/noise/indie-pop/reggae)

Funnily enough, when the decision of writing this review popped into my head, i had an introduction in mind, that went a little something like this; "There is no doubt in my mind that upon recording their 2009 opus Imaginary Falcons, the dynamic duo team of Indra Dunis and Aaron Coyes were completely and utterly baked". Now looking at their Myspace page I find my statement may be more accurate then one would expect; this husband and wife team may just be the greatest hippies to exist in the modern world. Everything from their pictures (the pair strictly don 70's approved apparel), to their psychedelic logo, to even their cutesy quote that simple states "STAY HIGH" implies that these two do quite a bit of smoking the ganja plant. And it is probably due to this that Imaginary Falcons is such a fantastic record; the album is audible weed, causing you to drift, starve and sleep to the swooning melodies that inhabit the disc.

[dcha]

Is there a guide to what needs to be included in a review? I want to start writing reviews, but I'm afraid they won't be any good.

[Bitchfork]

MJ:

If you think about it, Circle Takes the Square's As the Roots Undo is a composition built off several metaphors, such as the beginning of "Non-Objective Portrait of Karma," where crescendoing ambience seems to represent an unnamed character's ascension to heaven. From there on, discordance ensues, representing the mutiny he causes, and the coup d'etat he is subject to. On "Crowquill," foreshadowing occurs, referencing a threnody ("A Crater to Cough In," which is, unsurprisingly, about death) and this very overthrow ("nothing's so puerile as haiku d'etat," perhaps another way to say "actions speak louder than words"). Similarly, the short introduction track seems to present the birth of an idea, before moving on into a chaotic display of hilariously charismatic- or, perhaps, egotistic - emo.

Yes, it becomes quite clear that in terms of this record's conception, lyrics are unusually important, but here is where one of the largest errors lies; As the Roots Undo's lyrical focus, while full of potential, is bogged down by poor execution. Lines ramble and interrupt with little to no connection to the next, and while many could argue that this is simply an inventive way of incorporating political and theistic philosophy, it comes across as sloppy pretense. "Same Shade as Concrete" and "Crowquill" are, overall, the worst offenders, but that doesn't keep tracks like "Interview at the Ruins" from following their coattails. Any sort of simplicity is thrown out the window, but not in a way that makes allegory seem interesting or intelligent. You can tell when the band is preaching politics and contemplating religion; they take a Randian method, using color to symbolize the personality of a person, concept, or thing; and finally, they preach the infamous cliché: we are all perfectly imperfect, as perfection is an abstract concept, achievable by one but not all.

The story behind the album is equally as generic, but, okay, I'll bite; it's got potential to shine as a grand, layered tale, following the story of an unnamed character who commits suicide to find out if there is an afterlife. Once he discovers that the rumors are, indeed, true, he plans a revolt against God, becomes God, promises to make a perfect Heaven, and is overthrown by an upset resistance group, dying to the soundtrack of the overlong "A Crater to Cough In." However, the banalities are numerous, switching between this theme and that without any sort of coherency or reason, switching between days of old and new without care, even interrupting lines with other uncorrelated pieces of easily-decipherable puzzles. They approach "In the Nervous Light of Sunday" with the same nihilism as the grinding axes portray; "Kill the Switch" tries to add as many new elements to the story line and the album's ethos, ending up convoluted and technically mediocre.

But then again, these are al metaphors for Circle Takes the Square's sound; coincidentally, the worst lyrics pop up just as the worst instrumentals begin. "Let the flood swell; it's God's will; let the flood swell," comes across on "Same Shade as Concrete" after other genera die out. Thudding bass and sing-screams intertwine as Kathy Coppola and Drew Speziale spout out lyrics. But hey, it's better than "wade in the water, wade. Come and fill your lungs," right? Right, so embrace what you have, like the few well-executed hardcore aspects of the song, all completely forgotten when the dreadful "Crowquill" comes around, but they're present.

Be glad for it, too, because Circle Takes the Square are best when they work with ambience and its polar opposite, an abrasive hardcore style. However, they seem to be more concerned with haphazard syncretism than focusing on their strengths, a feature which both hinders the album and douses it in pretense. "Interview at the Ruins" is easily the least affected, but its beginning is laughable, showing As the Roots Undo's hilarious over-baked ideas. The minimalist eccentricities on said track are burnt to an ultra-boring crisp, but at least the track uses dynamics well.

[Bitchfork]

The fourth paragraph might need some work. Maybe an inclusion of the sentence "Their execution seems to reflect the lyrics, incoherent, pretentious clitter-clatter." or something somewhere.

[Slum]

Ugh not another CTTS review

[Vermeer]

ok reading this now. and if you're not going to help with the editing Slum shut the fuck up. seriously i don't see how anyone can "get sick of" these reviews. no one is forcing you to keep clicking on them and reading them

[Bitchfork]

Probs only posting it in a thread. not a formal review, but more of an excercise/vent.