Review Summary: That golden tone
Writing reviews has become something that I just cannot do lately -- call it a thorn in my flesh, a bewildering gap, or maybe it’s just that I'm depressed after having done that review for that terrible Linkin Park
album, A Thousand Suns
. But whatever it is, something has sapped me of my creativity, dwindled my already-lackluster vocabulary to a few, mumbled phrases, and left me in the company of those bereaved mourning a loss. Perhaps it's women in my life, you say" Maybe, maybe. But since when has music become this thing that I just cannot grasp, though, you know" Why is it that when I turn on Radiohead
-- as you can see, music taken from any genre -- does everything crackled and fuzz into Channel 78 static or become something morose and depressed like an endless, looping cycle of Chopin’s preludes.
C,B,C,B,C,B -- piano chords play in my head, mocking me, comforting me.
And then, as if suddenly, an extended note breaks through the air, pausing Chopin’s hands, his leg being left to rest on the left pedal of his piano, leaving the dissonance of his minor keys to fade into the distance, fu
cking leaving my mind. I feel -- this is peace, I think. A gentle hand rests on my shoulder, in a touch removing the tension and the stress; the thoughts of my mind pause and dissipate into nothingness. Two men appear in my tunneled, black vision, standing out in the darkness and the would-be quiet, if not for that extended tone, that golden-calm tone. Brian McBride and Adam Wiltzie are their names; around sputnikmusic’s, Pitchfork’s, and Bitchfork’s worlds, they are known as Stars of the Lid. They speak, I think, but no words come out.
There’s just that hallowed drone, varying every so slightly, it seems.
Or does it" So peaceful, soothing, giving me words to write, ideas to pen, and music -- wait, music to enjoy" They told me before all this that Converge
’s Jane Doe
would be my savior, you know. Never in a million years did I envision the likes of ambient/drone master-workers Stars of the Lid and their opus The Tired Sounds of Stars of the Lid
to be my key. Oh, and it’s not just my savior to writing and getting my life back on track again; no, it’s also the key to finding many fitting nights of sleep. Dear God, I’ll tell you: last night was the first night in the last three months that I’ve gotten more than four hours of sleep, eight to be exact. I woke up with a faint note lingering in my mind, the varying dynamics for the tone of the middle of “Broken Harbours, Pt. 3”, specifically, sending chills up my arms and spine, causing me to cradle my now twenty-pound-less body in my arms, the product of stress and, relatively, a world without the joy of music that I had endured.
They say that Stars of the Lid and their albums are an acquired taste and take patience to enjoy.
Yeah, whatever. Patience has nothing to do with it, my friends. It’s more like you have to just -- fu
ck, let The Tired Sounds of Stars of the Lid
take you, caress you, heal you. It’s one of those albums that you lose yourself inside of and forget you’re even listening to it anymore; this is not boredom, mind you, nor is this ADD. It’s, well, just Stars of the Lid. It’s drone and ambient music. You know what you’re getting here, but with The Tired Sounds of Stars of the Lid
, you’re getting the best from the
best. Turn it on; lose yourself; and wake up to a new you. Hyperbole, you say" Unbelievable" Boring" No.
This is just The Tired Sounds of Stars of the Lid
. Believe it. Listen to it. Feel it.