And the requests continue!
I was recently contacted by a chap called Marc who’s the chief songwriter/main performer/head honcho of Sunrise Highway, a US band I’d never heard of before. (How come there are so many bands I’ve never heard of before? I really need to get out more…)
Marc asked me to perform my solemn duty* and have a listen to the band’s music. My response was a definite “A-OK, baby.” So Marc sent me some songs.
Well, I’ve spent some time with the songs that Marc sent, and I can safely say this: if you want to listen to them you’ll need to put on sunglasses first. This music is so bright, and the songs so dazzling, that it won’t matter what time of the day, week or year you play it – when you play it, it’ll be summer. You may also find yourself squinting while the music’s playing and wondering if you turned on too many lights where you are. (If you live on the beach, however, then you won’t notice much difference.)
The music of Sunrise Highway sounds to me as if it lives in the world of 70’s AM radio – a world full of sunny tunes, sunny harmonies, and just a few more sunny harmonies thrown in for good measure.
The first song I’ll play you is “Baby Be Good.” It’s as good an introduction to Sunrise Highway’s music as any of the other tracks Marc sent me:
Sunrise Highway – “Baby Be Good” (2010)
And here are three more of ’em:
Sunrise Highway – “Magic” (2010)
Sunrise Highway – “Roundabout” (2010)
Sunrise Highway – “Life On Mars” (2010)
If you’re so inclined (and you may very well be after listening to those songs), you can buy the Sunrise Highway album from a variety of places:
(Don’t tell Marc, but I’ve never liked the idea of buying downloads. When you buy a CD, you end up with a round, shiny, plastic-and-aluminium thing and a little booklet to hold and look at. You also have the excitement of waiting eagerly by the letterbox so that when the CD does arrive you can gleefully rip open the packaging and marvel at that round, shiny plastic-and-aluminium thing you’re holding. Oh, and with the packaging itself there’s the possibility of getting bubblewrap you can pop. And, much later, when you’ve completely forgotten about buying it, you might find yourself one day walking past it on the CD shelf, spot it in the corner of your eye, smile and say to yourself, “Oh yeah, now I remember – I bought that.” You don’t get any of that when you pay for a download. All you get is a new filename in your media player. How anticlimactic…)
(*I must admit that Marc didn’t use those exact words. Actually, I don’t know of anyone who uses the phrase “solemn duty” nowadays.)