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Rainy Day Fun
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Rainy Day Fun
Current price: $16.99
Barnes and Noble
Rainy Day Fun
Current price: $16.99
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Size: OS
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The first full-length release by
Brother JT
is a much more concise and
pop
-oriented affair than the sprawling
acid rock
freakouts of his initial EP,
Music for the Other Head
. Recorded by himself on a four-track,
Rainy Day Fun
is exactly the sort of casual, loose affair implied by the title. Not that
John Terlesky
's previous band, the garage poppy
Original Sins
, had been paragons of instrumental virtuosity and flawless production, but
sounds like the efforts of a talented, shambling
singer/songwriter
enjoying a spare afternoon or two with himself, cutting ragged but right pieces of psychedelically tinged
. The production is, to put it bluntly, utterly atrocious. The drums are inaudible most of the time and as hollow as someone beating on a cardboard box with a stick when they're audible. The guitars sound like they're being recorded from the next room and the vocals sound like
is mumbling drunkenly, face down on the floor. Seriously,
Pavement
in 1992 would have listened to these songs and thought they could stand to be cleaned up a little. And yet, that's part of the sloppy charm of this album, which is an utterly unpretentious piece of bedroom
psychedelia
, the sort of thing obscurantists will treasure in a couple of decades. ~ Stewart Mason
Brother JT
is a much more concise and
pop
-oriented affair than the sprawling
acid rock
freakouts of his initial EP,
Music for the Other Head
. Recorded by himself on a four-track,
Rainy Day Fun
is exactly the sort of casual, loose affair implied by the title. Not that
John Terlesky
's previous band, the garage poppy
Original Sins
, had been paragons of instrumental virtuosity and flawless production, but
sounds like the efforts of a talented, shambling
singer/songwriter
enjoying a spare afternoon or two with himself, cutting ragged but right pieces of psychedelically tinged
. The production is, to put it bluntly, utterly atrocious. The drums are inaudible most of the time and as hollow as someone beating on a cardboard box with a stick when they're audible. The guitars sound like they're being recorded from the next room and the vocals sound like
is mumbling drunkenly, face down on the floor. Seriously,
Pavement
in 1992 would have listened to these songs and thought they could stand to be cleaned up a little. And yet, that's part of the sloppy charm of this album, which is an utterly unpretentious piece of bedroom
psychedelia
, the sort of thing obscurantists will treasure in a couple of decades. ~ Stewart Mason