In case you're confused (I was too), this album is called Introducing and then the band is called Brilliant Colors. I hope that clears everything up. They look a little out-of-focus on the cover. They look crisper on the CD tray.
They sound like it's 1978-1986 all over again. Which is fine because I was waiting for it to be 1978-1986 all over again. Their record company pegs them as sounding like the Shop Assistants and Introducing will do until such time as we get a decently priced definitive domestic release of everything the Shop Assistants ever recorded.
In case you missed the Shop Assistants, they sounded like someone set them up inside an enormous concrete dome where they had to get on top of and surf their own galactic slapback. Vocals were high-pitched and lyrics sinister, the sardonic side of quotidian days.
And this bunch comes on not quite so angry, more open to the sensual possibilities of churning reverb. I was going to say that in 1978-1986 we needed this stuff badly to counteract what was going on on the TV, in the boardrooms, in the nation's capitals. But now everyone's a lot older and we still need this stuff. I wish I could file a complaint. But who to? Regardless, you should pick up this energetic, if short, record and wash the grey out of your day. Spend a short sweet reverie on your headphones letting your ears lick lemon custard. Then put your shield back on and go back out.
In case you're confused (I was too), this album is called Introducing and then the band is called Brilliant Colors. I hope that clears everything up. They look a little out-of-focus on the cover. They look crisper on the CD tray.
They sound like it's 1978-1986 all over again. Which is fine because I was waiting for it to be 1978-1986 all over again. Their record company pegs them as sounding like the Shop Assistants and Introducing will do until such time as we get a decently priced definitive domestic release of everything the Shop Assistants ever recorded.
In case you missed the Shop Assistants, they sounded like someone set them up inside an enormous concrete dome where they had to get on top of and surf their own galactic slapback. Vocals were high-pitched and lyrics sinister, the sardonic side of quotidian days.
And this bunch comes on not quite so angry, more open to the sensual possibilities of churning reverb. I was going to say that in 1978-1986 we needed this stuff badly to counteract what was going on on the TV, in the boardrooms, in the nation's capitals. But now everyone's a lot older and we still need this stuff. I wish I could file a complaint. But who to? Regardless, you should pick up this energetic, if short, record and wash the grey out of your day. Spend a short sweet reverie on your headphones letting your ears lick lemon custard. Then put your shield back on and go back out.