by carl wilson

Bruno Unbuttons His Lip

Hey hey, look who's posting again. I hope he'll stick around long enough at least to let us know his thoughts on Costello's The Delivery Man, which is rawking through my earphones for the first time as I type. (Great sound, though I'm beginning to sense what about Oughties production style is gonna sound dated in a decade - this too-much-in-the-round ambient style, in which all the instruments are kind of part of a cyclorama and never thurst forward at you. A case of Too Much Progress, or are my ears stuck in the nineties, or what?)

Nice Elvisania in der Globe today by my senior colleague Robert Everett-Green. Personally I will likely let Il Sogno slide - I'm willing to accept that it's a much-above-average exemplar of pop-star orchestral writing (ie. wiping the floor with Macca and Joe Jackson) but not my cuppa & inessential to my mental map of Costelloland for any but scholarly purposes.

Oh and: Lucinda Williams sounds totally drunk.

The Writ | Posted by zoilus on Wednesday, September 29 at 05:15 PM | Linking Posts | Comments (0)


Zoilus by Carl Wilson