Move aside, typical intro. In a tidy break from the normal band bio hullabaloo, Märvel have brought a genuinely intriguing story detailing the release of their latest. As they tell it: back in the primordial aughts, three Swedish exchange students in Denver found themselves in an exciting situation--after being picked up by a US indie label, the original vers kion of this EP was recorded. And then...it didn't see the light of day. This was due, firstly, to the label not releasing it as planned, and, secondly, the untimely demise of the master tapes in 2008's Universal Studios fire. Thankfully for us slumbering Villagers (and you as well,) the four tracks that constitute Märvellous have been reborn anew.
This current iteration of those lost songs is not, however, an exact replica. In the band's words, "we wanted to play, produce and record the songs as well as we possibly could." And so here we are, listening to the pseudo-original tunes from a band who have since gone on to prove themselves worthy to shoulder the burden of rock 'n' roll revitalization.
Avatarium has a new album out today, and as I fuck off for a few hours to bask in its undoubted splendor, I'll leave you fine folks with a recycled review of their 2015 debut. The Girl With the Raven Mask fit neatly into that year's AoTY slot, both in the moment and in well-considered retrospect. Without further ado:
So here I sit, basking in the warmth of Jennie-Ann Smith's vocal stylings. In one sense, her voice is a confluence of qualities: Grace Slick's sheer force, Jess (of the Ancient One's) eerie flow, and Jex Thoth's silky smoothness. But in another sense entirely, her tone is sophisticated beyond compare. Every track is imbued with a slightly distinct (yet no less alluring) character, and it is Smith, in large, who is responsible for this brilliant dynamism.
Providing thoughtful reviews of music that is heavy, gloomy, and loud enough to wake us from slumber. Written by a groggy-eyed, highfalutin peasantry.