Windmill
So my son is learning to play the piano, and he’s enjoying it a great deal. So much so that he’s beginning to pay attention to which songs have piano elements in them and whether he could/would learn them. Listening to a bit of Windmill, he figured that he’d love to be able to pull off a couple of his songs. I asked him what he liked so much about the Brit’s music. My son basically answered with a simple “I dunno, it just sounds different.”
Spot on, little buddy. As far as coming up with engaging pop tunes, it certainly has its own hue.
Windmill is the effort of Matthew Thomas Dillon, sole architect behind this beautiful, frail, and highly evocative piano-driven tale entitled Tokyo Moon. The song’s vivid emotional landscape is stirringly heady, starting off with a few solitary piano chords to accompany Dillon’s quavering vocals, creaking along with a level of faux confidence suggestive of a euphoric attempt to mask being on the brink. Yet there bursts a thunderous drum supported by a chorus of elevating voices, brimming with a sudden moment of self-assurance and realisation, fervent and searching, desperate for an anchor, only to tumble back to the rickety ground upon which the song is built upon. Dillon’s dissonant, struggling vocals reveal themselves to be the aesthetic backbone of the song, conveying broken normality with such tender solicitude, a more refined, polished voice would fail to be so human.
As a sidenote, I also know my son enough to know that another reason why he likes Windmill is because of the manga-esque album art. He may be a little too proud to say it, but dad knows. Dad knows.
www.windmillmusic.co.uk
myspace.com/windmillband
www.facebook.com/pages/Windmill/6333262878
Comments
Post a comment