The Lumineers – Ho Hey
Plus, points off for not being a Naughty By Nature rewrite…
[Video][Website]
[3.25]
Anthony Easton: Somewhere between the Alabama Shakes and the Avett Brothers, without the musical skill of the former or the writing skills of the latter. Would be better with some kind of ethos — considering context, either Jesus or one of those love songs that sort of sounds like Jesus.
[5]
Patrick St. Michel: Guitar guy, pipe down for a second…do you hear that? I think Arcade Fire are stuck in the closet and are trying to get our attention.
[4]
Iain Mew: The abrupt exclamations are a neat trick in allowing the first verse to function as sleepy and assertive at the same time, and as the beat steps in I’ve found myself tapping along a few times. The subject and the structure both fall apart a bit before even the end of its brief time, but it still out-does most earnest retro folk attempts that I can think of.
[6]
Jonathan Bogart: There’s so much willful ignorance of any kind of historical analysis underpinning all this sort of faux-nostalgic faux-naïveté that I want to throw up.
[1]
Will Adams: My score for this pleasantly forgettable, forgettably pleasant trifle is artificially deflated due to having heard this a thousand times in a Bing commercial that played every ten minutes during a recent Hulu binge. It didn’t make me want to use Bing, mostly out of fear that every time I pressed the search button, I would hear a “ho!” or “hey!”
[3]
Brad Shoup: This miserable, underbuilt vehicle — “I’ve been sleeping in my bed,” Schultz sang in a recording studio — could be charitably considered training wheels for Mumford & Sons, the Ford F-150 of the New Hokum. The ‘neers shout like a WPA chain gang, at one point cutting into the chorus (which itself is so much of an afterthought, their brains haven’t formed it yet). I’m getting steamed just knowing these wimps — evidently featuring the fourth- and fifth-place contestants in a Woody Harrelson lookalike contest — are out there strapping on suspenders, donning outmoded hats and seeing everything in sepia like they’re all sharing a brain tumor. One point for being from Colorado.
[1]
Katherine St Asaph: I cannot wait for the day bands stop tempting me to recycle my “suffering from realness” line.
[2]
W.B. Swygart: The “ho” bit and the “hey” bit, that’s all grand. Pretty much everything that happens on top of that is not.
[4]
You sound like a fun group to party with.
45 per cent more fun than the lumineers
oh man this song sounded so good when i only heard five seconds of it on songpop
There’s so much willful ignorance of any kind of historical analysis underpinning all this sort of faux-nostalgic faux-naïveté that I want to throw up.
There’s so much willful ignorance of any kind of historical analysis underpinning all this sort of faux-nostalgic faux-naïveté that I want to throw up.
There’s so much willful ignorance of any kind of historical analysis underpinning all this sort of faux-nostalgic faux-naïveté that I want to throw up.
There’s so much willful ignorance of any kind of historical analysis underpinning all this sort of faux-nostalgic faux-naïveté that I want to throw up.
There’s so much willful ignorance of any kind of historical analysis underpinning all this sort of faux-nostalgic faux-naïveté that I want to throw up.
There’s so much willful ignorance of any kind of historical analysis underpinning all this sort of faux-nostalgic faux-naïveté that I want to throw up.
There’s so much willful ignorance of any kind of historical analysis underpinning all this sort of faux-nostalgic faux-naïveté that I want to throw up.
There’s so much willful ignorance of any kind of historical analysis underpinning all this sort of faux-nostalgic faux-naïveté that I want to throw up.
There’s so much willful ignorance of any kind of historical analysis underpinning all this sort of faux-nostalgic faux-naïveté that I want to throw up.
There’s so much willful ignorance of any kind of historical analysis underpinning all this sort of faux-nostalgic faux-naïveté that I want to throw up.
There’s so much willful ignorance of any kind of historical analysis underpinning all this sort of faux-nostalgic faux-naïveté that I want to throw up.
There’s so much willful ignorance of any kind of historical analysis underpinning all this sort of faux-nostalgic faux-naïveté that I want to throw up.
There’s so much willful ignorance of any kind of historical analysis underpinning all this sort of faux-nostalgic faux-naïveté that I want to throw up.
Come again?