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Echo
From Esoterics (Review)
By:
Jason Thompson
"Field"
MariZen - Field
Back to Chicago. Last month The Like Young.
This month it's MariZen. Adjust your radars
accordingly. The eyes cast away from NYC and back
across the map a little. Apparently the town (the
city, the metropolis) has a bubbling pop scene. Is
the math rock movement dying out there? Can it,
please? This is the stuff that classics are made
of. Sweet, rocking, short pop songs that dig in
the first listen and make you leave the CD in your
player, eager to hear it all over again.
Secret weapon? Perhaps it is Mari Calip, with
that distinct voice that you know is going to win
your ass over. She sings it pure and powerfully.
Or maybe it's Marty Kane's drumming, Chris Shen's
bass twiddling, or even Mike Greene's guitar. I
don't know. At this point in time I just know that
Field is a damn fine album, and one that
all readers here should seek out and purchase. You
know, plunk down the cash and have one of those
musically orgasmic moments at the payoff. Oh, it
will happen if you do. A sure promise.
There's something in the water out there.
Something that creates bands like this. Imbibing
and becoming wild pop freaks. Chicago. It's on the
map. You know, Burroughs often talked about it,
and I've read so much on the place that it still
feels a bit out there. I've never been, but if I
were to go, I would check out MariZen. I would pay
my money and sit in the club and watch them play
their songs and if I was so moved to do so, I
would applaud this action. I would certainly make
it be known that they had met my approval, and
well, you know that's gotta count for something
after all this time.
But perhaps I am stepping out of my boundaries.
Then again, I ask myself if there really are such
things. When I'm listening to this and not
bothered at all by the shit going on outside. I
know, you wanna know about the music. Not some
strange ramblings of a rattled writer. OK, fuck
you. Here it is: "#1 Fan" blisters my
ears every time. Something like ground up glass in
the honey. A little bite, a little sweetness. It's
sexy and throws you up against the wall, groping
your ass with both hands. Nice, no? You know you
love it.
"Real" is another big slab of
rocked-out bliss. You'll listen and like it
instantly. There's something familiar going on
here. This would make a good song in a movie.
Miramax, listen. This is the band. Pick up the
phone to speak with the rock and roll. Maybe
Lindsay Lohan could dance to it in something. I'm
banking that this is a very feasible idea. But
then, someone might snatch this idea from my pen
and cash in, leaving me with only my words.
But I digress. The weird gets weirder. The best
is "You". Nice little syncopated guitar
riff and a melody perfect for riding around town
in the blown out Vanagan in a pair of Trax and a
bowl of Trix slopping around in the passenger's
seat. The kids who shop at the Hot Topic will be
jealous when you smoke 'em with this song. Pull up
nice and slow, hit the horn, cue this tune, and
the magic of rock and roll will set you free. It's
already been tested and certified by a clutch of
random 17 year olds. They wouldn't lie to you.
The facts are the facts. This is all I can be
sure of. And the fact is that MariZen and Field
are pure pop bliss. One that everyone can enjoy.
And if you miss out on this, then there is a cliché
about there being no hope for you. Seriously,
though. This is an album for sunny days filled
with daisies and green grass and bare feet. Tasty
beverages, Sno-Cones, and a groovy makeout session
outside the public library. Check 'em out now or
be forever sad. Field is basket full of
peaches.
- Jason Thompson
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