Excluding vinyl, there’s very little in life that is as awesome as discovering a new album in the confines of your headphones. The sanctity of the audible retreat crafts a world that no one will quite see or feel the exact way you do.
I can’t think of an album that encompasses this better than Take Berlin’s Lionize.
Recorded to tape without the motivation to just simply release an album, the end result is in the realm of lo-fi but seemingly doesn’t care where it falls. Jesse Barnes and Yvonne Ambrée met by chance, found a common passion, and never looked back.
The subsequent release is nothing short of fuzzy, dreamy, poetic beauty.
Assuming this duo can keep up with a worldly travel schedule, these two can go far. There is longevity to their sound that is as natural as their draw to music. You can hit play and immediately escape for a twenty minute airy, floating experience that puts a halt to your sense of time. The draw is unavoidable the moment you take a chance on “Vermona” and won’t quit even after “Stranger.” And with only six tracks there is still plenty of “WOW;” from the addicting call-and-answer vocals of the title track to the wavering experimental folk style of “Kentucky” this is an almost cinematic experience in your head. The subtle differences reach from a core of timelessness. For example, when the songs took a Mayer-esc turn in “Sebastian” I couldn’t help but become a little distracted, but I came to the realization that this is far more tolerable than Johnny Boy. The songs of Lionize are relevant, not for their ability to fall into some magazine-coined-musical category, but because they are as natural to music as the wind is to the day.
Some may call it vintage, some may call it raw, but however you look at it the six track release is captivating. With a beautiful lack of urgency Lionize transcends time and lingers in your mind as if it were easily twenty tracks that you will listen to again and again.