Review: Moving Mountains Self-Titled LP
There’s something silencing about the rain. Despite the tapping of water against windows and the car tires bubbling the water as they accelerate
down the road, the world is at rest, it seems.
Similarly, Moving Mountains’ self-titled album establishes the same feeling: silence through music. It puts the mind at ease, decreases the heightening thoughts to a minimum, and everything around the listener flatlines, allowing nothing but Gregory Dunn’s voice to trickle http://www.cialispharmaciefr24.com/cialis-dose-recommandee/ into the ears and throughout the body.
“Everything feels far away,” they sing in “Seasonal,” being the mood of the entire album in one lyrical line. The swaying guitar riffs and beating drums float listeners from track to track, the music never stopping, making this album one big lullaby.
“I fall down to the rhythm of losing you, but I still choose the comfort in finding you.” A harmonic line that introduces an viagra sans ordonnance instrumental solo in “Eastern Leaves.” Moving Mountains wouldn’t be who they are without their musical lines. They’re one band that doesn’t focus on vocals, having the whole band in the spotlight, not just the singer.
The single “Swing Sets” released in August, proves their unity as a band. The introduction is purely instrumental for more than the first minute of the track. Being the first track on the album, it sets the tone for the rest of the nine tracks: “So don’t talk now,” Dunn repetitively sings.
The whole idea of missing out
on someone who completes oneself, being lost in the search for a home, is strung throughout. http://www.cialisgeneriquefr24.com/cialis-pilule-du-week-end/ “Every feeling confused; we’ve got so much to lose,” ornaments the shortest track of the album, being just over two minutes: “Under a Falling Sky.” Short, but powerful.
Their consistency in tone, mood and theme is what makes this album. There’s no choppy https://www.acheterviagrafr24.com/achat-viagra-cialis-en-ligne/ back-and-forth that will tug listeners into completely different directions every three minutes or so. Instead, it sinks into a meditative state. Although sad, this album is like a glass of wine with a best friend who understands exactly what you’re going through.
Except, unlike wine, this album will never be empty or grow tired and fall asleep. So hit play, set it up to play on repeat, and let the world around you flatline.