Journey deep down the rabbit hole with Closure in Moscow and their allegorical, psychedelic opus that’s soaked in a perfectly balanced brine technology and satire.
There’s no group of creatives that has it tougher than today’s musicians. Their craft is exceedingly simple to steal, consume, judge, then cast aside like yesterday’s Hot n’ Ready crust (what this shockingly red handed dork who looks like he went straight from a wedding to reviewing a 5 dollar pizza doesn’t tell you is that it’s the most inexcusable food of all time).
To be fair, we have a right to be skeptical. The vast majority of today’s music is formulaic, predictable, shallow, devoid of any deeper meaning and often crafted for the sole purpose of grabbing the attention of the nearest industry turd. Then there are bands like my guests, Closure in Moscow.
Closure has always leaned toward the “all-in” approach with their music, but their latest release, Pink Lemonade, pushes the chips forward like nothing I’ve ever heard before. Within the first minute of the record, they make it pretty clear that zero fucks shall be given through the duration of its running time. You’re either going need to jump on the roller coaster car that’s flying by you at a thousand miles an hour and hang on for dear life, or go back to your happy little Michael Bay filled life like nothing ever happened. If you’re brave enough to pluck the red (or in this case, pink) pill from the alchemist’s paw, you’ll be rewarded with a rip-roaring, priapism inducing dive down the rabbit hole that makes Alice in Wonderland look more mundane than a trip through a Taco Bell drive through.
Pink Lemonade is a highly intelligent nuanced piece of existentially poignant psychedelic prog pop art. An archetypical narrative soaked in a perfectly balanced allegorical, technological brine.
Throughout the record, the Closure boys skip on and off the beaten path like Dorothy and Toto taking pulls off of a two liter bottle of ayahuasca. You seriously never know what they’ll do next (which, in this case, is a refreshingly good thing). Every song operates on multiple levels, evoking everything from biblical motifs to an epic battle between dinosaurs and bone-collecting inter-dimensional cyborgs (a theme Miley Cyrus’ latest effort was sorely lacking).
I could go on and on about what I think is the best record I’ve heard in a very long time, but I’ll let my conversation (also, seriously one of my favorites ever) with Chris and Manny from the band take it from here.
Oh, and did I mention they’re approachable, down to earth, funny, well-spoken guys that I could see hanging out with this weekend if not for the 10 thousand mile geographical disparity we share?
P.S.-You can also tip Midwest Real!
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