Soft Landing 
 [Ba Da Bing!; 2010] 
Though they hail from Brooklyn, Soft Landing can sound a bit  like a band without a country. The spry indie-poppers— headed by Beirut  associate Paul Collins, with that band’s Perrin Cloutier on drums  here— cut their ebullient tunes with snatches of Tropicália, mariachi,  samba, and Balearic beat. You name it, they dabble in it, but unlike  their sometime-boss Zach Condon— who delves into his disparate source  material head on— Soft Landing let their ex-pat dalliances color the  tunes rather than drive them. They move confidently through these bouncy  mutlicultural flourishes, liberally draping brassy keyboard fanfares  and shimmering dancefloor textures onto their sprightly songs. But their  breezy melodies are both outshined and outweighed by their  arrangements; the sound’s there, but the songs underneath could stand a  little more fleshing out.
Collins’ voice is warm and sweet, if not the most expressive; he’s  got much of Condon’s sustain but little of his vibrato, and he sings the  tunes with a sort of pleasant, everyman ease. A few clever turns aside,  his lyrics are similarly serviceable, almost cute; “Ibiza” is about a  dancefloor, “Papaya” a gentleman’s surname. In “Mic Check”, “this love”  is real, but “this world” isn’t, and that’s just about all you’ll learn.  The songs— largely strummy, mid-tempo acoustic things— flit by  amicably enough, but stripped of their window dressing, they’re fairly  straightforward, unsurprising in their construction. The lightness in  tone, the crisp recording, and especially all the judiciously applied  instrumental touches give Soft Landing its character; without them, as on the comparatively unadorned “Pendleton Woolen”, the album slips into competent anonymity.
Still, those arrangements really are something; despite its goofy  lyric, ad execs ought be on high alert for the immediately appealing  chunky Spanish guitar rave-up of “Mic Check”, and the recent glut of  Balearic-influenced dance tracks doesn’t make the faux-naif “Ibiza”  knock any less. Keyboard gurgles and percussive explosions pop up around  nearly all of Collins’ melodies; they’re not meant to be the focal  point, but when the songs themselves don’t have much to offer, there’s  always something else going on. But fun’s fun, and while at this point  Soft Landing’s buoyant, uncomplicated tunes aren’t much more, they’re  also rarely anything less.
— Paul Thompson, January 7, 2011
http://pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/14961-soft-landing/

Soft Landing

[Ba Da Bing!; 2010]

Though they hail from Brooklyn, Soft Landing can sound a bit like a band without a country. The spry indie-poppers— headed by Beirut associate Paul Collins, with that band’s Perrin Cloutier on drums here— cut their ebullient tunes with snatches of Tropicália, mariachi, samba, and Balearic beat. You name it, they dabble in it, but unlike their sometime-boss Zach Condon— who delves into his disparate source material head on— Soft Landing let their ex-pat dalliances color the tunes rather than drive them. They move confidently through these bouncy mutlicultural flourishes, liberally draping brassy keyboard fanfares and shimmering dancefloor textures onto their sprightly songs. But their breezy melodies are both outshined and outweighed by their arrangements; the sound’s there, but the songs underneath could stand a little more fleshing out.

Collins’ voice is warm and sweet, if not the most expressive; he’s got much of Condon’s sustain but little of his vibrato, and he sings the tunes with a sort of pleasant, everyman ease. A few clever turns aside, his lyrics are similarly serviceable, almost cute; “Ibiza” is about a dancefloor, “Papaya” a gentleman’s surname. In “Mic Check”, “this love” is real, but “this world” isn’t, and that’s just about all you’ll learn. The songs— largely strummy, mid-tempo acoustic things— flit by amicably enough, but stripped of their window dressing, they’re fairly straightforward, unsurprising in their construction. The lightness in tone, the crisp recording, and especially all the judiciously applied instrumental touches give Soft Landing its character; without them, as on the comparatively unadorned “Pendleton Woolen”, the album slips into competent anonymity.

Still, those arrangements really are something; despite its goofy lyric, ad execs ought be on high alert for the immediately appealing chunky Spanish guitar rave-up of “Mic Check”, and the recent glut of Balearic-influenced dance tracks doesn’t make the faux-naif “Ibiza” knock any less. Keyboard gurgles and percussive explosions pop up around nearly all of Collins’ melodies; they’re not meant to be the focal point, but when the songs themselves don’t have much to offer, there’s always something else going on. But fun’s fun, and while at this point Soft Landing’s buoyant, uncomplicated tunes aren’t much more, they’re also rarely anything less.

Paul Thompson, January 7, 2011

http://pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/14961-soft-landing/

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Prince Paul - Confessions Of A Beat Junkie - 1997
We’re huge fans of Prince Paul.  So naturally, we were geeked to get our hands on Confessions Of A Beat Junkie,  a promo tape Tommy Boy put out in ’97. The 35-minute blend of b-sides,  unreleased stuff, famous works, and many skits don’t  disappoint—especially if you’re familiar with Paul’s work. Not much info  exists, so I wrote Paul and asked him to introduce the tape for us.   Here’s his response:  
Thanks, I’m glad you enjoyed the tape.  I made this for Tommy Boy  as a promo item in the late ’90s to reintroduce myself to the public.   It was to launch off the reissue of Psychoanalysis and a new project, A  Prince Among Thieves.  I just wanted to make something different from  the old traditional mixtape that was out at the time.  I had my friends  and mom do little intro pieces to the songs. 
I wanted to make it appear like I was this elusive, eclectic guy,  and they were describing my work to those who weren’t familiar with me.   The photo [on the back] is a picture of my son when he was about 3 or  4.  He was always facinated with the turntables now he’s a DJ himself at  17.  I put a lot of work into that tape, I’m glad that it’s still being  enjoyed. Thanks again. 
DOWNLOAD HERE

tumblklaat:

Prince Paul - Confessions Of A Beat Junkie - 1997

We’re huge fans of Prince Paul. So naturally, we were geeked to get our hands on Confessions Of A Beat Junkie, a promo tape Tommy Boy put out in ’97. The 35-minute blend of b-sides, unreleased stuff, famous works, and many skits don’t disappoint—especially if you’re familiar with Paul’s work. Not much info exists, so I wrote Paul and asked him to introduce the tape for us. Here’s his response:

Thanks, I’m glad you enjoyed the tape. I made this for Tommy Boy as a promo item in the late ’90s to reintroduce myself to the public. It was to launch off the reissue of Psychoanalysis and a new project, A Prince Among Thieves. I just wanted to make something different from the old traditional mixtape that was out at the time. I had my friends and mom do little intro pieces to the songs.

I wanted to make it appear like I was this elusive, eclectic guy, and they were describing my work to those who weren’t familiar with me. The photo [on the back] is a picture of my son when he was about 3 or 4. He was always facinated with the turntables now he’s a DJ himself at 17. I put a lot of work into that tape, I’m glad that it’s still being enjoyed. Thanks again.

DOWNLOAD HERE