In a vain stab at relevancy, I sat down to write a review. Unfortunately, the press release that was at hand was pushing an album from last year. Someday, I will be cutting edge. In the meantime, The Literary Greats:
If I were, while ambling down an unlit alley by night, to be asked by a burly masked man wielding a cudgel to describe The Literary Greats’ sound in two words, I’d probably say something like “spacious rock”, in between deep, heaving sobs of cowardice. The Texas band don’t write small – every song conjures up cavernous imagery. They do this both overtly (the opening track is called “That Mountain Yonder”. Incidentally, I appreciate any song that uses “yonder” in the title. It’s an underappreciated word. Anyway – ) and with more subtlety: the occasional moment where a bridge or a coda breaks the song wide open, like in “Dreadnought”.
Is anyone even reading anymore?