Formed in New York in 2003, GOOD EVENING enjoys the intricacies of being a truly collaborative effort - no song is complete until experimentation has rendered it unrecognizable from the original source. They also appreciate the value of imposed limi [+]Formed in New York in 2003, GOOD EVENING enjoys the intricacies of being a truly collaborative effort - no song is complete until experimentation has rendered it unrecognizable from the original source. They also appreciate the value of imposed limits, having deliberately chosen to work within the narrow confines of the traditional guitar/guitar/bass/drums line-up in order to push their music harmonically and sonically. Their latest EP, I SAW THE SUN EXPLODE, is a collection of five new songs that demonstrate the fruits of these experiments - a coherent new identity for the group and a music that is at once grandly expansive, intimately concentrated, and unafraid to be melodic and beautiful.
While their music may reference the style and aims of bands like Radiohead, Can, Elbow, Soft Machine, Talk Talk, as well as other atmospheric and Anglophilic groups, they are inspired to go beyond mere derivation or mimicry. Consequently, they find themselves moving in a very different direction than the retro glam-seventies and new-wave-eighties music currently prevalent in the New York music scene. But it is that divergent quality that makes them so vital - the willingness to go against what is currently considered "cool" paradoxically defines what is "cool" in the first place.
The final track "Backbone" exposes a desperate, sniveling weasel hiding beneath an oppressive and hyper-critical inner monologue while adding more and more intricately arranged layers and textures as the song progresses. Though the song may superficially adhere to a slightly modified verse/chorus structure, the song never repeats itself in terms of the arrangement. It is this philosophy of creativity that governs the creative process for the band. "Early" starts as a hypnotic and sinister drone and slowly gathers into a fiery inferno. "Faster" turns one single bright chiming guitar into a lush swirling trap of chords interlaced with captivating melodies and tricky drumbeats suggestive of the French Kicks. "The Spark I Was" begins with a rare and brave sparsity, contrasted with a wall of sound that Coldplay should be delivering but only promise. "Go On" is a sharp and sudden left turn into tunnels of white noise and oncoming traffic.
"...A bit of Thom Yorke and his cohorts is he
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