Benny Bunter

Well-known member
send barty an email benny, tell him to chip in. its one of his specialist subjects. i would but i cant access my email at present
The thing with shitty midi-brass is that there’s such a gulf between expectation and reality. Brass is so majestic, it speaks to the utmost heights and ambitions of the human imagination. Brass is 2001: A Space Odyssey, its the opening scroll in Star Wars, its the civil rights era enlightenment of Coltrane and Pharoah sanders… And then there’s that shitty plastic duck sound you get out of a computer.

But that actually ends up being the occasional strength of tacky midi brass. Suddenly it’s feebleness and its cheapness relative to what brass should be lends it this underdog quality; this David and Goliath feel. So when they work, those synths are really speaking to a sense of triumph and of conquering foes and of defying the odds and of rising above the lows life throws at you. Either documenting the splendorous victory...:



… or the treacherous battle on the way








This is the most egregious deployment of shitty brass though. The track’s sublime- a kind of secular, loved up ecstasy gospel, interrupted by something that sounds like the fucking Venga Boys! Outrageous.


This one somehow gets away with a very similar offence:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nhxu1Q1z_Aw
 

Benny Bunter

Well-known member
Hated this at first but it won me over eventually, mainly cos of that pathetic sounding but catchy little horn bit. On the song's wiki page it's described as "brassy horn bleats" which is a pretty good description I reckon - bleating.

 

Benny Bunter

Well-known member
The bleating midi horn punctuates Bieber's own pathetic, grovelling but ultimately insincere ("I'll take every single piece of the blame if you want me to/but you know that there is no innocent one in this game for two") apology. It's just perfect
 

Benny Bunter

Well-known member
"Ill Blu choose and deploy their weapons with brutal efficiency: supple, rippling tribal percussion, shimmering faux-pizzicato string-synths, those faux-hardman grunts and exhalations punctuating the groove, ghostly keyboards, and of course doom-laden tragi-comic synth-horns straight from a 1983 Depeche Mode record, encapsulating and perfecting the Hammer Horror vibe that is Ill Blu's standard pop maneuver. An audible smirk hangs over proceedings, and not in a bad way - the producers know they're not fooling anyone with their psuedo-darkness but they're banking on the listener loving cheesy drama as much as they do. "

(No prizes for guessing who wrote this)

 
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