Her Space Holiday
Home is Where You Hang Yourself
In her dreams, she’s a retired supermodel. Beachfront condo, sauna and daily massages from exotic, dusky, chiseled men wearing naught but cute little bowties. She’s poolside, cell phone in hand, wine cooler at her side and lookin’ like Jackie-O with those sunglasses. She’s got the money in her voice that sends aging directors straight to the showers. When she wakes up, though, she’s really a receptionist for some asshole surgeon who berates her daily for the limpid nature of his coffee. It’s the lust for something better, something to break up this fucking tedium.
Marc Bianachi crafts moody pop that’ll make you want to treat yourself better. He’s captured that yearning undercurrent that drives so many of our actions perfectly. It’s not melancholic, but you might think that he’s writing these songs from of a need to get out of that spiritual funk. “Snakecharmer” is an upbeat number with a shimmying breakbeat framed by a slowly chiming guitar. “The Doctor and the DJ” is probably the most conventionally “pretty” song on here; it tells a heartwarming story of someone who “took a chance/on romance/without knowing her name.” It’s dreamy, ethereal and comforting, like that blanket you’ve got stuffed in a closet back home. The second disc is remixes of artists that share a similar aesthetic done by her space holiday. Here we see Bright Eyes, Mahogany, Micromars getting the treatment along with a few others. All of the songs are given a somewhat similar gloss, but never fade into monotony. They’re pleasant, but not terribly remarkable.
Tiger Style, 149 Wooster St., 4th Floor, New York, NY 10012; http://www.tigerstylerecords.com