brozas
Active member
Paramore - This Is Why (2023) 96-24
Country: USA
Genre: Alternative Rock, Pop Punk, Pop Rock
Format: FLAC (*tracks)
Quality: Lossless [96kHz/24 bit]
Time: 36:11
Full Size: 750.95 MB
On Paramore's first album in five years, singer Hayley Williams is worn out by the world-but weariness has never sounded more appealing. Opener "This Is Why" serves up disco-diva vocals and liquid-gold Chic-style bass for a tune about paranoia ("This is why I don't leave the house/ You said the coast is clear/ But you won't catch me out") and the encroaching dangers of social media. "If you have an opinion/ maybe you should shove it . might be best to keep it to yourself," sings Williams, who stepped away from Instagram a while back with the intention of "looking up and out, rather than down." The suck of screen time-and how modern-day doom scrolling both brings us together as a community but also causes dissociation-is also the theme of "The News:" "So far from the faultline . I'm safe inside/ But I worry and I give money/ And I feel useless behind this computer," she sings, while the percussion skitters. Deliciously, it would've fit right in on the band's 2007 classic Riot! But they've learned a lot since that album, including how a velvet hammer is just as effective as nonstop thunderous bludgeoning. Songs like "Figure 8" and angular "You First" (featuring the great line "I'm both the killer and the final girl") mix emo hallmarks and more subtle, even lush dynamics. "Running Out of Time"-with its lament of there never being enough time to do everything you want or feel obligated to do-finds Williams trying on silky, Lisa Stansfield-style vocals on the verses and pure agitation elsewhere, against funky guitar and drum splashes. She also gets playfully experimental with "C'est Comme Ca," a punky track that finds the singer trying on an affect that is a little bit goth and a little bit Rockwell a la "Somebody's Watching Me:" "In a single year, I've aged one hundred/ My social life, a chiropractic appointment/ Sit still long enough to listen to yourself/ Or maybe just long enough for you to atrophy to hell." (That said, the singer has admitted that "I'm trying to get un-addicted to a survival narrative.") There's a floaty ballad ("Liar"), tense post-punk guitars contrasted with disco-ball dreaminess ("Big Man, Little Dignity") and a plush Cocteau Twins moment ("Crave"). Uneasy listening at its best. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz
Code:
Download from [b]HotLink[/b]
https://www.keeplinks.org/p72/63e522235f14a