Demons Dance

The Residents - The Bunny Boy (2008) {Mute CDSTUMM301}
EAC rip (secure mode) | FLAC (tracks)+CUE+LOG -> 297 Mb | MP3 @320 -> 111 Mb
Full Artwork @ 300 dpi (png) -> 120 Mb | 5% repair rar
© 2008 Cryptic / Mute | CDSTUMM301
Avant-Garde Rock / Experimental / Abstract / Non-Music

The Bunny Boy was the 2008 project from the Residents, but it's much more than just an album. The album was inspired by the Bunny Boy Internet series, which also extended into the tour. Here's the supposed story: a friend of the Residents' has had his brother go missing, apparently on the island of Patmos in Greece. This friend ("Bunny") is a (mostly) computer illiterate man who spends most of his time in his "secret room." He's got some clues: postcards from Patmos and the contents of his brother Harvey's computer. From the secret room, he posts video messages (the webisodes) on the Internets hoping that people will help him find his Armageddon-obsessed brother (who went to Patmos because that's where St. John supposedly received the Book of Revelations).

At its quietest moments, 2007's Memory Almost Full played like a coda to Paul McCartney's illustrious career; he seemed comfortable residing in the final act of his legend, happy to reflect and riff upon his achievements. Such measured meditation is largely absent from 2013's New, the first collection of original material he's released since 2007…

Lindsey Stirling's third album, Brave Enough, is where her crossover sound falls nicely into place. Her first two efforts – thrilling collisions of violin acrobatics and electronic embellishment – were novel, but there was something missing to that new age dubstep. On Brave Enough, Stirling taps into a deep well of pain – inspired by her own emotional maturity and the death of her best friend and keyboardist, Jason Gaviati, in November 2015 – and the result is an organic interplay between her instrument and digital beats that focuses more on pleasant rhythms than dubstep muscle.

Some people will seek out the debut album by Lovelock, because the man behind it is Steve Moore of the band Zombi – a New York duo who play faintly absurd horror soundtrack music enjoyed mainly by metalheads. Yet they will discover, in ‘Burning Feeling’, one of the least horrific or metallic records ever. Lovelock is where Moore lives out his oiliest, most moustachioed cosmic-disco-meets-yacht-rock fantasies. Largely paced languidly enough for the cruise ship dancefloor’s erection section, synths fizz like fireworks and vocals, when they feature, are shameless requests for unnamed ladies to disrobe. Despite being a good 30 years out of time, it’s absolutely brilliant.