Scott Pinkmountain and the Golden Bolts of Tone
The Full Sun
With a gigantic backing band that consists of some of the finest in the S.F. Bay Area’s experimental avant music scene, (Seek out Gino Robair and Liz Albee solo trips now!) Capt. Pinkmountain creates a damned impressive world of relaxing, soulful psychedelic tunes about girls with “piano key eyes” that reside in lands where “halos and hanger-on’s heckle the club footed dance,” turning them into huge swirling galaxies of feedback’n’drones as tasty as ice cream sandwiches on Saturn.
Fast-forward to a catchy groove stomp at a bus stop on Route 70, where blissed out orchestral hummingbirds appear and meet with a human voice that shimmers with the best of obscure mellow and occasionally freaked-psych songwriters with heartsleeves appearing in modern tone mirrors. While you might have heard these reflections before, this now-time memory disc of arresting delicacy and gentle production reminds you of each melody lift, usually in the form of long horn swells and piano teeth bites, no matter how minor or major.
Fans of exotic tea drinking will highly enjoy this soundtrack of sun-spinning pop tales by Scott Pinkmountain, master of conjuring magic words and the Golden Bolts of Tone, wizards of surprising musical realities where, “eclipses falter and fade behind second rate sundowns.” Sweet and full of repeat.
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