Not Exotic

Yep Roc

Get out the whiskey, light a candle and get ready to pine over lost love as you sit, growing older by the second. Such is the mood of Dolorean’s Not Exotic, an album of slow, painfully longing and incredibly downtrodden ditties, powered by acoustic guitars, brushed drums and the weary vocals of Al James. This is the kind of album that isn’t good or bad; it’s just terribly depressing, yet pleasantly so.

Many people on this planet are only happy when reminiscing of days so long gone that a return to them is impossible. There’s something charming about the impossibility of pleasant times which can never be reached again; they make us smile, but the smile is often tinged with longing and desperation. Not Exotic is basically one of those looking-back sessions put to music. The guitars are lightly strummed in a Neil Young kind of way, while the brushed drums offer a dreamy, fluid backbone for the vocals, which croon of things from murder to lost love and back again. Most interesting is James’s vocal delivery, which sounds very much like Michael Stipe. I’m not sure if it’s intentional, but I really like the wispy quality to his voice; it creates a very dreamlike state for the listener.

The very best thing about Not Exotic is the fact that it’s timeless. I could enjoy this one lounging by the pool on a hot summer afternoon, just as much as I could enjoy it while driving on snowy roads in January. It’s fun to listen to James’s recollections, but I find it even better to think back to my “salad days” as I listen to Not Exotic. It is the perfect soundtrack to longing for times long gone.

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