So you’re making breakfast and it’s one of these big fucking ordeals. This hollandaise sauce took way too fucking long to make and you used way too much fucking butter. There’s even this special device that you bought so you can evenly disperse icing sugar on top of these waffles that are, well, basically made from tears of the sun because they’re so perfectly brown and crisp. Everything on that plate is fucking perfect. Like shit, man, you even have this coffee where each cup is made by brewing the souls of three separate hipsters from three different ethnicities. It’s fucking great. Then, as you carry this plate over to your table, it drops right on to the floor and it’s fucking everywhere. Unsalvageable. Cat shit got into the eggs even though you don’t have a cat. And your hollandaise sauce has been charged with touching kids. It’s just a fucking mess. But damn, did it have some potential just before. If you had opened the fridge that morning and all you had was bacon grease and a pot gummy, then you wouldn’t have expected much of anything. But, that’s the problem with potential: it doesn’t mean shit until something’s done with it.
The English folk-rock trio Jessica, Camilla and Emily Staveley-Taylor have harmonies that can only grow from the unique relationship siblings have from singing together all their lives. Their voices and harmonies on song 1 alone can make you cry about a lost memory of your father leaving you at that bus station in Atlanta overnight. Then there’s yMusic, a cool sextet chamber ensemble from New York City. They’re like if Philip Glass was super young and imaginative, super cool and optimistic, and not so fucking repetitive. “Silent Side,” “Year of the Dog”, “Courting is a Pleasure” “Sprig of Thyme”, these songs feel like the core of this album. They demonstrate how these two pieces of perfect fucking musical talents can jive together within a single wonderful bite. Songs before are just abstract classical pieces with the sisters’ talents being put to use by hooting quarter notes every once in a while. It’s like using the Magna Carta as a dishrag. Sure it can work! But don’t you know that! … Fucking Hell, Man! Just look it up! Why did you! Like, just… Fuck Man! Songs after this are fucking gorgeous, but they also sound like songs off a new Staves album. They don’t show the chops of the wonderful musicians in yMusic.
Now, is it a bad album? Fuck no, man. It’s actually really great. But, it’s so fucking beautiful and had all this potential, that’s why I’m so fucking angry with it. It’s like dropping that hot plate of perfect food into a volcano of cat poop and pedophiles. If the food was shit to begin with, then who gives a flying fuck? True disappointment can only come from a fall from expectation, it seems. Songs 1, 5, 6, 7, 11 should be in most people’s playlist cause they’re pretty special. I hope to hear more contemporary classical music mixed with folk in the future. But fuck, if someone wants to carry this torch, please listen to this album to figure out where they went wrong first. The last thing I want is tears from the sun and multi-ethnic hipsters covered in feline feces and patriarchal genital petting.