(soundcloud.com/masonsummit) The cover photo of an adorable teenage
boy wielding a beautiful acoustic guitar and the skinniest jeans (or/and
skinniest legs) ever invented seems like it could be a fake photo taken by some
middle-aged band trying to represent something or another about youth, ambtion,
and beauty. But when you listen to this music, despite the glossy production
and mature musical sensibilities (that bounce from sunshine pop to bouncy rock
to coffehouse angst to jazzy Bread-like production pop) it’s obvious that this
is the product of a fresh, young talent who doesn’t yet know he’s not supposed
to believe he can try and succeed with every idea he has. Summit avoids, but
doesn’t reject, the gloriously worst aspects of teenage poetry, and most of his
lyrics balance sincerity and cleverness like a circus juggler. If black skinny
jeans will help me write songs this good I’m about to suck in my gut and going
for it.
No comments:
Post a Comment