acemvivere
11/09/09, 09:14 PM
Immoor - The Thievery of Your Own Things
Release Date: 11/2/06
Record Label: Immoor Productions
I recently purchased a brand new laptop after its predecessor, which served me faithfully for the last two years, literally went up in a blazing conflagration of smoke and flames. I reinstalled iTunes, and as it was supposed to do, it allowed me to download any music I had directly purchased from the store by browsing my purchase history. I wasn't surprised to find very little on it, but I was surprised to find an artist I couldn't recall ever listening to, much less spending money on. I spent a good hour or so listening to Casey Immoor's first full-length album, and then proceeded to take a pencil, stick it between my index and middle finger, and squeeze. Hard.
It hurt, incredibly; but I only did it because I'm not flexible enough to kick myself in the ass for having ignored the presence of this ecstatic musical presence for a good year or so.
Immoor doesn't have the kind of voice that can cut through the air with crystal clear clarity and finesse, or the brute force of a brick to the face, but he does have a hypnotic quality to his droning, almost monotone voice. The music he presents through synthetic melodies is calm, methodical, and flows smoothly with mechanical precision. The vast majority, if not all, of his lyrics are thoughtful, dealing in pleasant, at times quirky, messages (In "Unit 371", the melancholy yet upbeat story of a machine about to be recycled: "Well I'd rather not be dismantled here, I've been chosen to be shaped into cans for beer, to keep costs down and earnings up this week"). The end result is a polished and mesmerizing musical experience. Listening to Immoor drives in a point many artists in the music industry seem to have forgotten as of late: there is harmony in honest simplicity.
THE THIEVERY of YOUR OWN THINGS, as it is technically referred to in all of its humble, caps-locked glory, is a gem of an album that will very likely remain buried under a pile of rubble veiled in glitz and glamor. It's a tragic statement due to the fact that for every Postal Service out there, a dozen more half-assed productions which parade around in neon lights spewing out more generic garbage exist. In light of this, I am fully prepared to fend off the avalanche of shit Immoor will no doubt bring, or has already brought. Some things are just worth it.
The Postal Service, Air; electronic music with a tinge of rock, or vice versa.
Release Date: 11/2/06
Record Label: Immoor Productions
I recently purchased a brand new laptop after its predecessor, which served me faithfully for the last two years, literally went up in a blazing conflagration of smoke and flames. I reinstalled iTunes, and as it was supposed to do, it allowed me to download any music I had directly purchased from the store by browsing my purchase history. I wasn't surprised to find very little on it, but I was surprised to find an artist I couldn't recall ever listening to, much less spending money on. I spent a good hour or so listening to Casey Immoor's first full-length album, and then proceeded to take a pencil, stick it between my index and middle finger, and squeeze. Hard.
It hurt, incredibly; but I only did it because I'm not flexible enough to kick myself in the ass for having ignored the presence of this ecstatic musical presence for a good year or so.
Immoor doesn't have the kind of voice that can cut through the air with crystal clear clarity and finesse, or the brute force of a brick to the face, but he does have a hypnotic quality to his droning, almost monotone voice. The music he presents through synthetic melodies is calm, methodical, and flows smoothly with mechanical precision. The vast majority, if not all, of his lyrics are thoughtful, dealing in pleasant, at times quirky, messages (In "Unit 371", the melancholy yet upbeat story of a machine about to be recycled: "Well I'd rather not be dismantled here, I've been chosen to be shaped into cans for beer, to keep costs down and earnings up this week"). The end result is a polished and mesmerizing musical experience. Listening to Immoor drives in a point many artists in the music industry seem to have forgotten as of late: there is harmony in honest simplicity.
THE THIEVERY of YOUR OWN THINGS, as it is technically referred to in all of its humble, caps-locked glory, is a gem of an album that will very likely remain buried under a pile of rubble veiled in glitz and glamor. It's a tragic statement due to the fact that for every Postal Service out there, a dozen more half-assed productions which parade around in neon lights spewing out more generic garbage exist. In light of this, I am fully prepared to fend off the avalanche of shit Immoor will no doubt bring, or has already brought. Some things are just worth it.
The Postal Service, Air; electronic music with a tinge of rock, or vice versa.