LIONLION – What Remains
If you’re reading this blog, good chances are that you do not own a television, and consider yourself too good for such distractions. That’s all well and good, but the lure of simple, effective entertainment will eventually catch up with you.
Perhaps, you will be stuck in a hotel room on a rainy day, and you’ll find yourself flipping through the stations. Maybe, you’ll be stuck inside of a bus where pop radio is blasting all the way to your destination. Whatever the scenario, you will end up hoping for a few minutes of genuine entertainment.
Like it or not, music is entertainment. Sure, there are those who enjoy prog, experimental, or noise groups. But, really, all that they are doing is trying to create a contrarian kind of entertainment. German musical project LIONLION’s What Remains is an indie-rock number that is tremendously palatable and enjoyable. Its use of soulful grooves, repetition, as well as effective, confident singing make it the kind of tune you might hear on the radio playing in someone else’s car. Most importantly, though, you’ll feel lucky to have heard it.
Secondhand Sound – Knievel
Ric Ocasek once revealed that he had worked songwriting for the Cars to such an art that he could knock out a convincing tune in mere minutes. I was, frankly, disappointed to learn that. It’s like reading that Harry Houdini has lunch and reads stockbroking advice before taking the stage for some death-defying act.
It’s all the more strange considering how the work of people like Ocasek has affected millions of people through the medium of the radio. For the last decades and on until eternity, there will be no way of escaping the great power pop numbers of bands like the Cars. Do you think this sort of music is formulaic? Sure, who wouldn’t want a rush of positivity and the instant, gratifying feeling that they can achieve anything?
This segues way nicely into talking about Secondhand Sound’s Knievel. This is certainly not music made for the coffee house crowds looking to smoke expensive cigarettes and discuss philosophy. No, what this song manages to do is capture the hopefulness and recklessness of young love and lust within a four-minute single complete with guitars and vocals that jump out at you like hungry animals. If it seems formulaic, it’s because this is a recipe that works and that radio junkies like ourselves need.
