The return of Everett True | 137. Fazerdaze
This is one lady.
This is from New Zealand.
This is the soundtrack of me drifting aimlessly.
This reminds me of why mystery.
This is all those rainy afternoons.
This is beauty. It’s beyond me why it ain’t being hailed alongside lesser names. Don’t make sense. Beautiful voice, drenched in ennui and beauty and… this is like all those Boston, MA years rolled into one lady and her keyboards and her guitar.
This is all the sun why.
This is most definitely.
This is certainly as great as Look Blue Go Purple, and man, praise rarely comes higher.
The way our lady put it was this:
I don’t remember exactly how I found Fazerdaze’s ‘Reel’, but I do remember frantically stopping everything I was doing (i.e. surfing the web aimlessly) to download the rest of the EP. I showed the songs to musical girl friends because that dreamy/ethereal cannon Fazerdaze’s Amelia Murray seems to dispose of is so often an aesthetic aspiration of female songwriters (in my humble opinion, anyway). It’s so hard to dabble in the easy-listening territory without sounding corny, or like a carbon copy of someone else.
Hazy, Warm, Beauty. You will not want to let this go once you start playing it. This will get you like A Distant Shore once got you, before it all turned pedestrian. Pale is good, but this will get you and you will not want to let go once you start playing it. It will oscillate and reverberate and satiate, your head will ring with half-remembered recollections. This is beauty and pale, and wonderfully saturated with sound and beauty and harmony and all those words, you know? All those words. You will not want to let go once you start hearing. You will not want to let go once you start hearing.
Long after sight and recollection and knowing has left you, this music will harbour sweet solace, comfort. Heal.
Beauty always heals.
Words will fail me but music never will.
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