She got the gold mine; I got the shaft…
This blog is bogus. I proclaim I’m sharing music I truly dig with you. But returning to the archives showcases only a few acts I hope to cheerlead for until my ear drums are blown out. A joke, but there are many acts I’ve held on the highest pedestal who’ve yet to grace these pages. It’s a jagged peak, one that once is surmounted, opens up all the posts one can generate. Some acts you covet so much you’d hate to butcher their MiS debut.
Caviar, a guitar driven act that gave nods to the modern rock sound of the mid-to late 90s, has never been formally introduced. Figdish, their predecessor, has been mentioned. What Caviar reincarnated into got a few nods — and they are the best supergroup ever. Caviar’s late 90s’ sound was fresh to me. Yes, they hopped on the electronica sound — without this direction, The Prairie Cartel most likely wouldn’t exist — but used those elements sparingly to channel an amalgamation of the sound of before with a direction that accentuated them well: Multi-layered tracks marinaded in crunchy, hard-hitting guitars with a bright appeal courtesy of keys and perfectly placed samples over witty lyricism.
Take “Goldmine”, an indifferent sounding vocal delivery proclaiming one’s inferiority to an unreachable female prize. With loud, chugging guitar lines, a light sprinkle of piano melody, and a shameless approach to woman and pop music in general, “Goldmine” speaks highly of Caviar’s true character.