The Doozer’s songcraft is very direct, clearly not mediated by any concerns other than clear self-expression. Flying Bird is quietly special: not much stands out from these pretty tunes on first listen, but you’ll soon fall into its great depth and string-draped beauty. Released by Golden Lab as a 180g vinyl LP, limited to just 300 copies.
Vinyl LP £14.99 ROWF 71
180g vinyl LP on Golden Lab. Edition of 300 copies.
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- Flying Bird by The Doozer
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‘The Doozer’ is, of course, a man from Cambridge with a guitar, a voice and a set of pop tunes of the psychedelic variety. Said tunes are, naturally, ‘disparate and slow-burning’, it says here. Great, just what I need when I have approximately 15 minutes left to finish writing this review, re-read and spell-check it, before sending it to Clint.
It’s actually, happily, quite a jaunty and instant start. Doozie’s voice is clarion and direct despite an habitually deadpan delivery. It’s a vocal performance deceptively uninhibited by any hint of emotion, as if recorded in a parallel universe where Nick Drake never existed. The songs are pleasant and songwriter-ly, sometimes even a bit jangle-poppy through the milieu of psych-folk and in its wistful country airs. ‘Village’ bounces along as Dooz loosely strums his guitar with the backing of an equally loose assemblage of musicians on electric guitar, bass and drums. I can imagine with a few listens some exquisite songs emerging fully-formed from what initially sound like sketches. It’s a slightly ramshackle approach that is charmingly engaging and the simple riff that rings through ‘Burning Flags’ -- what would seem to be an anti-war song, which would be cool -- is immediately striking, ensuring that many listeners will come back to discover more.
‘Flying Birds’ slightly obviously, perhaps, channels a Byrds-ian approach to pastoral, whimsical psychedelia. On side B, ‘Memory’ is the most immediately affecting song in the collection so far. Strumming, voice, even a little whistling. Simple, effective, stunning. It’s all refreshingly stripped-back, allowing the voice to coarse its way through unimpeded. I’m starting to like this guy a lot. ‘Farewell to the West’ closes the record with a sprawling, acid-tinged, horizontal alt-country epic. I think I’ll give it another spin.
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