pascal babare

You won’t be too surprised to hear that we’ve lost the press release on this, new thing from the blackmaps sound bunker from Pascal Babare in the form of a sophomore full length entitled ‘sorry, morning’ all of the tracks from which we’ll give closer attention to in the coming days when we are off from 9 to 6 hell and cobble together into a neatly digestible critique. For now so a your put on alert as to what to expect we’ve been tuning in to the sweetly arresting ‘heaven clubs’ the albums opening cut. Cutely compared to Sufjan Stevens, the Microphones and the Animal Collective all of whom prove to be a good call, the sleepy headed tonalities which stretch, yawn and woo their way through these grooves are delicately calibrated in a smoky prairie like lilt whose winter worn shimmered riff lines nod ever so delicately to a ’durable dream’ era Moviola. Yet peel a little deeper away at the top skin and a gorgeously homely albeit crookedly wayward softening psych folk campfire glow rises up to mellow and melt as though some secret summit whereby affectionate notes exchange between the hands of the Summer Hymns and the Doleful Lions. Gorgeous in short.

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