Send "The Big Pink " Ringtones to your Cell 
| Pitchfork |
 I gotta admit, I'm disappointed the Big Pink didn't issue some sort of nuclear anti-Pitchfork screed when "Velvet" only snuck into the tail end of our Top Tracks of the Decade at #500. Robbie Furze and Milo Cordell could be the nicest guys in the world for all I know, but everything about the Big Pink up to this point has been about the huge, swaggering gesture-- their song names read like mission statements ("Crystal Visions", "Too Young to Love", "At War With the Sun"), the cover art for their singles are 4AD-gone-softcore (check the banned Dennis Cooper pic on the "Too Young to Love" single artwork-- your move, Bradford Cox) and, the only thing more full of itself than the band name is the album title. It's all loaded with the kind of unshakeable self-confidence that typically leads to daunting hype from Brit mags, ridiculously fun press quotes, and, just maybe, an album that justifies us giving a shit two months from now. As you can guess from that score up there, A Brief History of Love is way better than it needed to be, a bracing and beat-driven debut from a label usually known for shoegaze's more cryptic qualities.But perhaps the most audacious claim made by A Brief History of Love is that Oasis' Be Here Now might've been onto something had its creators not been loaded on cocaine during its recording process (to this day, it's still one of the worst sound engineering jobs you'll hear on a major-label album). This is generally not a popular stance, since history has viewed it as the big loser in Britpop's dinosaur-meet-asteroid summer 1997. But not everyone was interested in following OK Computer's example of using electronic music for texture so much as another avenue towards anthems, and tracks such as "Bittersweet Symphony", "Pure Morning", "All You Good Good People", and, yes, "D'You Know What I Mean" proved a natural fit between massive, if rudimentary hip-hop beats and what might otherwise be flag-waving, stadium-filling radio smashes. And so then, the lineage continues with the Big Pink's mighty "Dominos"-- it's such an undeniable, simple hook, and such an undeniably locomotive but lumbering beat that it steamrolls any doubt you have about the rest of it being underwritten or misogynistic....full text |
| Musicomh |
| Boy, did 2009 need an album like this. And even if A Brief History Of Love is just a few shades short of perfection, the heave of anticipation that surrounds The Big Pink's debut album shouldn't be met with the sense of disappointment that has, of late, become all too commonplace. As the vultures circle rock music with an ever-increasing appetite for bloody consumption, The Big Pink's timing could not have been any better. Although the album's forebears could argue with some justification for a percentage of the royalties, this is the kind of record that feels more like a raucous celebration of past achievements than an overly obsequious and indolent rehash job. For the cynical few, A Brief History Of Love might be a little too reminiscent for comfort. For the majority, it will be a relieving revisitation, perhaps even an life-altering introduction for those lucky, younger ones, to music that's every bit as powerful as the subject it conveys....full text |
| Bbc |
| The Big Pink’s debut album arrives with the hefty weight of expectation. Singer Milo Cordell runs Merok Records and is the son of 60s producer Denny Cordell. His partner is Robbie Curze, a man who previously played guitar with Berlin techno-rock mentalist Alec Empire. Fortunately, A Brief History of Love delivers. Cordell’s heritage and sharp eye (and ear) for talent, combined with Curze’s ability to terrorise with sound, has clearly imbued the London-based pair with a knack for creating music which is often extreme but rarely less than tuneful. Current single Dominos will have listeners chanting gleefully along to its euphoric chorus – “These girls fall like dominoes” – while the accompanying fearsome, bass-heavy synth drone is positively overwhelming. The holy trinity of Spacemen 3, My Bloody Valentine and The Jesus and Mary Chain are overt influences throughout the album, especially on debut single Too Young to Love. Screeching feedback, guitars squealing like tortured porpoises and a lyric about lost innocence: it’s an instant noise-pop classic. There’s a drop in quality with Love in Vain, a slight diversion from the rest of the album in terms of its sedate pace and bizarrely jaunty tone. The Big Pink are at their best when trying to punch holes in the sky, not making ballads....full text |
The Big Pink lyrics Music videoclips
|
| ||||||||||||||||
