|
|
|
|
| |
WOLF PARADE - Apologies To The Queen Mary
| StylusMagazine | | Bark to yourself, in tongue-bite, in seizure, and listen to your voice bristle with spasm. Watch the concern and genuine sense of incapacity fill the eyes of your neighbours. What now. All sense flows out of the skin right then, and it’s down to fantasy, terror, cacophony, and awful heartache. Then imagine yourself surrounded by sizzling synths, drunken piano stomps, and lock-step pirate rhythms. Now you got it, and you have company: Wolf Parade has beaten you here, to this place. They’re waiting for you, seated, with bearded grins and shaggy chins. How’s it feel to have stumbled on the best sound of the fall?...full text |
| | PrefixMag | | This is not a record that should be bookishly analyzed. It's a record that begs you to call your friends and rant about how you feel the Rock in your veins. But I don't know you all that well. You wanna get a drink or something?...full text |
| | Popmatters | | Forty-eight minutes of music to last all day. The '00s have already provided some amazing debut records and Wolf Parade join the flood with force. This is art and vigor, but vigor first. This is hart rock, overwrought and almost ridiculous. Like The Constantines, TV on the Radio and Funeral, the only thing saving Apologies to the Queen Mary from absurdity is their blind-sighted intensity. Irony is useless to these bands and it sounds like the malaise is finally crashing and burning. Listen to "Dear Sons and Daughters of Hungry Ghosts" and you'll hear the death knells of yesterday's cynical detachment....full text |
|
WOLF PARADE lyrics |
|