Albums are too damn long, and they keep getting
longer. The ability to cherry-pick favourites, which became easier with CDs and
then too easy with iTunes and streaming, has turned the focus away from quality
control and towards cramming as much work as possible into a record. What used
to be called a double album is now the norm.
The EP is undervalued. Concise and stripped-down, it’s
a format that knows its limitations, there for new artists who want to
experiment and get themselves out there, and for established acts to release
leftover material. EPs were at their best in the late ‘70s to early ‘90s, peak
eras for punk and alternative rock, when anybody could pick up a guitar but
most only had the patience for a few songs. It was a good time, and for some acts,
it’s never gone away.
As a last stop before the upcoming MINEO record,
Koning honours a fast, short, and pure type of record that deserves more
respect. Give it a listen. It won’t take too long. – Melody
On this impossibly beautiful mystery
text, this sinner-songwriter—defined by his introversion—finds untold joys in
community. This suits the ostensible concept, a series of scenes reminding us
that before the world went full dystopia, the strictures and expectations the
recession dismantled led to a period of pink-cloud hope for a wave of weirdos and
their wide-open minds. The music sounds like the waking dream the best of those
times felt like, and the allusive lyrics attain the scope of a movie, exploring
loss, depression, friendship, and addiction with honesty and empathy, and the
less you dig his gloomy whims the more the walls of the cruel outside world close
in on you.
Koning—well in his forties—is still a
hot weirdo with fun taste following his soul undaunted wherever it takes him.