"A lot of bands have something to say," explains TV On The Radio producer/multi-instrumentalist David Sitek. "We have something to ask."
When I first heard Golden Age, off TVotR's Dear Science, album, I felt like it was the anthem to Election2008 ~ a nation at 'a twilight consciousness', stumbling out of the past 8 Bush Years, blinded by the light at the end of the tunnel, hoping it's not actually a train heading straight for us ~ as the song warns, "Like the sun spitting happiness into the hereafter ~ Oh here it comes like a natural disaster."
Apparently, I'm not the only one who felt this way. Nik Dirga over at BlogCritic, writes: "They're still a band that thrives on tension, but this is also a pitch for global audiences. I don't know if TV On The Radio set out to create the soundtrack to the Bush years, but the push-and-pull of anxiety I get from their albums makes as good a background music as any. Acidic asides on the state of the nation — "I'm scared to death that I'm living a life not worth dying for," goes a line in "Red Dress" — blend with very personal dramas. TV on the Radio are nervous, but their fears make for some unforgettable sounds."
Jon Pareles adds: "There’s still a deep streak of dread on the new album. Its title, “Dear Science,” includes the comma because it was the salutation of a letter Mr. Sitek posted on the studio wall while the band was working on the album. Mr. Adebimpe said it was written “in a kind of kid’s handwriting on yellow notebook paper.” The letter was addressed to Science itself, demanding that it “fix all the things you’re talking about” or shut up." Yup, that about sums up my feelings ~
I could go on and on trying to find the perfect permutation of adjectives to describe TVotR's music ~ moody-soulful-music-layered-under-heavy-elegiacal-lyrics meets heavy-afrobeat-rhythms-with-flowing-orchestral-sounds in a dark, smoky jazz club, they dance and talk all night, drink some 1970's David Bowie with chasers of Purple Rain and Thriller, fall in love and end the night with a bang ~ ~ ~ "bells, timpani, marching drumbeats, saxophone, flutes, husky vocals and a guest appearance from Katrina Ford of Celebration." But I'm not very good at expressing myself so you will have to listen to them for yourself, and see them on tour if you can.
It doesn't hurt that the guys are super smart and cool, too:
A high-rise apartment building is going up next door to Mr. Sitek’s studio. “They build one skyscraper, and skyscrapers get lonely,” Mr. Sitek said in his three-pack-a-day rasp, lighting up in the alley alongside his favorite Williamsburg club, Zebulon. “So then they call their friends and more skyscrapers come, and they throw a party. And the next thing you know there’s a skyscraper blogging about the skyscraper scene in Williamsburg.”
Early on, TV on the Radio benefited from the talent-spotting and reputation-building of the indie-rock blogosphere. But eventually the band felt typecast. “I’m done with cool,” Mr. Malone said. “I’ve been done with cool for years.”
Heart beats sounding
Ricocheting in their cage
Thought I'd lose my balance
With the ground's bounce and sway
And all this violence
And all this goes away
And the vibes that rise like
Fireflies illuminate our play
Some light being
Pulled you up from night’s party
Said clap your hands
If you think your soul is free
And the silence was astounding
'cept some "Oh Lord!! Mercy Me's"
And oh you can't stop what's comin' up
You’re never gonna stop gonna live it up
And oh it's gonna drop gonna fill your cup
And oh it's gonna drop gonna fill your cup
The age of miracles
The age of sound
Well there's a Golden Age
Comin' round, comin' round, comin' round
Give it up
'stead of grabbing for decay
What we viewed as gold
I believe pollutes this space
And its grace ascending
Like a snake up your tree
Up your happy ending understanding
All your s'pposed to be
Let it move right in
Let it kiss your face
Let it sow your skin
In perpetual embrace
Like I said "Love's Light is Laughter"
Like the sun spitting happiness into the hereafter
Oh here it comes like a natural disaster
Ah blowing up like a ghetto blaster
Ah here it comes, bring it faster
Ah here it comes, bring it faster
The age of miracles
The age of sound
Well there's a Golden Age
Comin' round, comin' round, comin' round
Love, don't you falter
Burning hearts
Dragged behind
The horses dancing on the altar
Hooves breaking Gods
To diamond dust and stars
And there you are...
Now we're all allowed to breathe
Walls dissolve
With the hunger and the greed
Move your body
You've got all you need
And your arms in the air stir a sea of stars
And oh here it comes and it's not so far
All light beings
Come on now make haste
Clap your hands
If you think you're in the right place
Thunder all surrounding
Aw feel it quake with the joy resounding
Palm to the palm you can feel it pounding
Never give it up you can feel it mounting
Oh its gonna drop gonna fill your cup and
Oh its gonna drop gonna fill your cup
The age of miracles
The age of sound
Well there's a Golden Age
Comin' round, comin' round, comin' round
The age of miracles
The age of sound
Well there's a Golden Age
Comin' round, comin' round, comin' round
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