来看看这位DozensOfDonuts关于浮躁的乐评：
THE FORSAKEN FAIRY OF THE FAR EASTIt's no wonder why Faye Wong's Fúzào has made a lasting mark on the Western market. Though Mandopop in nature, her influences lie thousands of miles away in the United Kingdom and United States. Ignoring the Chinese language, one can easily misjudge Fúzào as a long-lost Cocteau Twins album, as Wong embodies Elizabeth Fraser's ethereal vocalise with the Dream Pop tactics to match. Her charisma shines with each breathy yelp, just as her graceful fragility carries with it the weight of translucent clouds. To an English-speaker, there's no language gap to bear. And for Wong - considering the stark differences in Mandarin - that's quite the achievement. She makes the language sound effortless, playful even. Like a fairy cavorting across flecks of dust. This is best seen on standouts '哪兒' and '墮落,' with performances that undulate from childhood glee to amorous tenderness.
At times, Wong does get dangerously close to Cocteau Twins. To the point of imitation for a new audience. This is not just the highs, but the band's lows as well, disappointingly reached on Fúzào's final two songs; '末日' and '野三坡.' Cocteau Twins' style, which applies here as well, has always struggled when Ethereal Wave's defined weightlessness suddenly carries a burden. Slower moments like these, that abject from Pop levity, tend to get lost in the haze. Thankfully, Wong's fun had been exhausted up to that point, and Fúzào's swift pace means endurance is of no concern.
And it's not as though she's entirely committed to the Twins' rich aesthetic. Occasionally Wong dabbles in Jangle Pop, of all things, resulting in moments like '浮躁,' which finds the singer yapping with an accented stutter (much like Björk at her most excited) over tramping acoustics (much like 10,000 Maniacs devoid of morose). Then there's the numbing Ambient Pop of '分裂,' which drones with eloquence and significance. Remove Wong from the proceedings and the production suddenly takes on a new form, one that aligns with the Ambient tower of William Basinski or Brian Eno circa Apollo. Though her versatility is limited to these rare moments, Wong maintains the quality apparent in her committed apery of the Cocteau Twins. She's a talent able to span continents.
THE FORSAKEN FAIRY OF THE FAR EASTIt's no wonder why Faye Wong's Fúzào has made a lasting mark on the Western market. Though Mandopop in nature, her influences lie thousands of miles away in the United Kingdom and United States. Ignoring the Chinese language, one can easily misjudge Fúzào as a long-lost Cocteau Twins album, as Wong embodies Elizabeth Fraser's ethereal vocalise with the Dream Pop tactics to match. Her charisma shines with each breathy yelp, just as her graceful fragility carries with it the weight of translucent clouds. To an English-speaker, there's no language gap to bear. And for Wong - considering the stark differences in Mandarin - that's quite the achievement. She makes the language sound effortless, playful even. Like a fairy cavorting across flecks of dust. This is best seen on standouts '哪兒' and '墮落,' with performances that undulate from childhood glee to amorous tenderness.
At times, Wong does get dangerously close to Cocteau Twins. To the point of imitation for a new audience. This is not just the highs, but the band's lows as well, disappointingly reached on Fúzào's final two songs; '末日' and '野三坡.' Cocteau Twins' style, which applies here as well, has always struggled when Ethereal Wave's defined weightlessness suddenly carries a burden. Slower moments like these, that abject from Pop levity, tend to get lost in the haze. Thankfully, Wong's fun had been exhausted up to that point, and Fúzào's swift pace means endurance is of no concern.
And it's not as though she's entirely committed to the Twins' rich aesthetic. Occasionally Wong dabbles in Jangle Pop, of all things, resulting in moments like '浮躁,' which finds the singer yapping with an accented stutter (much like Björk at her most excited) over tramping acoustics (much like 10,000 Maniacs devoid of morose). Then there's the numbing Ambient Pop of '分裂,' which drones with eloquence and significance. Remove Wong from the proceedings and the production suddenly takes on a new form, one that aligns with the Ambient tower of William Basinski or Brian Eno circa Apollo. Though her versatility is limited to these rare moments, Wong maintains the quality apparent in her committed apery of the Cocteau Twins. She's a talent able to span continents.
第八感
