A month ago, I attended the album release party for the seventh studio album by George Hrab, the musician (until a little over a year ago, we was the drummer for the Philadelphia Funk Authority and podcaster who has a dedicated following within the overall skeptic community.
This was actually the second release party of his that I attended, with the first being an unplanned visit to Bethlehem for the album Vitriol when a friend of mine called me up and said that I should hear this guy’s music. I loved that album when it came out more than twenty years ago and I have considered myself a fan ever since.
This new album is called Terpsichore, the Greek muse of dance. In the run up to the release of this album, George (or “Geo” as he likes to be called) spoke of it in concept and style to the music that he (and I) grew up on in the 80s. Music that might not necessarily be written as dance music but which still makes you want to get up and dance.
It’s interesting. In this day and age of streaming music, with digital downloads and Spotify and YouTube, the very idea of the album feels like it has evolved. At the risk of sounding like I’m old (well, I am 51 now, and I did hire the Philly Funk Authority to play at my 50th birthday bash a year ago), I miss the days when you could hear a song on the radio and then head down to the local record store to pick up the album. Yes, the idea of a single existed back then, but I usually bought the whole album anyway and hoped that the rest of the album was as good as the song I’d heard on the radio.
So it’s refreshing to actually have a new album complete with liner notes with inside jokes aimed at other members of the band, and artwork that you pore over the details as you know and acknowledge that everything on the album was exactly as the artist wanted it to appear.
I don’t think it’s an understatement when I say that this album is Geo’s strongest album to date. It’s a coherent piece of work, with each song flowing neatly into the next. If you listen to the album Vitriol, there comes a point where he makes a comment about flipping over the CD, a tongue-in-cheek reference to the heady days of vinyl music.
Although this album is not available in vinyl (you can, however, buy it on CD, digital download, and thumb drive), there is clearly a “side 1” and a “side 2” in its styling. There are four short instrumental pieces (“Terpsichore I” through “Terpsichore IV”), that appear like they would belong on the first side of an LP or cassette version of it, to the point that I question whether he’ll eventually pursue a vinyl pressing of the album. (And if he reads this review, I wonder if he has anything to say about this observation…)
I love all of the songs on this album. If you were to ask me to pick a favorite song, I’m not entirely sure I can. It’s just that strong a work. Force me to pick my favorite songs, I’ll say “Insomnia”, “White Noise”, and “Drowning ≠ Drowning”. But all of the songs are smartly written, catchy, and appropriately emotive for their themes.
Five stars for Terpsichore. If you haven’t already bought your copy, go to his Bandcamp page and buy this album now. You won’t regret it.