Bat For Lashes – Two Suns

I could be wrong, but I’m pretty sure that Natasha Khan gets boned by Smurfs. Hobbits, too. And I think that pervert Lancelot used to court her. Again, I could be wrong about all this. But I was listening to the lyrics on Two Suns, Bat For Lashes’ second album, and those are some of the conclusions I’m drawing.
I’m not exactly sure when New Age soft rock became indie-cool, but I guess it’s never too late to get your ears fucked-over by a music trend.
Guys! My aura is purple!
Nostalgia-inducing music like this is like watching The Karate Kid on mute and blasting Stevie Nicks and fucking (not sure if I mean the verb or the adjective here) Yanni at the same time. Now, it’s clear from the accolades thrown Bat For Lashes’ way that there is an audience eager for this experience. People who cry when it rains will dig this. So will people who twitter things like, “I just ate the most amazing organic peanut butter sandwich, which reminds me of the innocence of childhood–pure bliss!”
When I hear Tatts On Gashes, I get waking nightmares of Natasha Khan riding that flying dog from The Neverending Story. But if you want dubiously tasteful Gwyneth-Paltrow-dinner-party-music that you can nod your head to in the elevator at Nordstrom’s, or just a peace-offering for Echo, the loopy pot dealer whom you owe a lot of money, you have good reason to politely shit your pants and go ga-ga over this album. This is trendy music, and that’s not necessarily a crime; but it’s aggravatingly bland, and it’s corny as shit, too. And that deserves a beat-down from the Cobra Kai:

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Man, this review is trying WAY too hard.