Through 'The Cycles' of AutoVaughn

Friends, my dreams have come true!  Some weeks ago, AutoVaughn finally released the long-awaited follow up to their 2005 debut EP, Space.   Of course, I was unable to attend the CD release party in Nashville last month, but thanks to J-to-the-J and the wonders of the internet, I was able to procure a copy and join my loved ones in sonorous ecstasy.

The Cycles is easily one of those mini-albums you'll listen to from start to finish (Yes, with the "repeat all" function on.) each time you pop in the CD or queue it on your mp3-player.   In keeping with its predecessor, The Cycles seems a deliberate organization of tone and dynamic, yet, as a whole, it is decidedly more movement-friendly.  I wager there will be few still bodies at AutoVaughn concerts during these numbers! 

The EP also reveals that AutoVaughn has solidified their characteristic sound (e.g. winding and ethereal guitar riffs and echoes, karaoke-worthy vocal lines, and well-tailored—Haydnesque even—thematic design).  And, I pray my boys remain resourceful enough to conserve and to expand what wonderful idiom they have wrought. 

The first track, “Inertia”, bears all the obtrusive drama of an operatic overture, a perfect shuddap and siddown opening to an effectual work of art.

The title track emerges only a breath later, at a slightly more refined pace.  Those fans of dance-a-long sing-a-longs should consider themselves lucky.  I have begun many a Saturday morning glory to this tune.

Speaking of Oasis, the fully self-contained measures of the album’s slow movement, “Missing Something”, are bound to satisfy your craving for melancholy. 

Picking back up the pace, I project that “Love Her To Pieces” will forever haunt mental soundtracks everywhere.  Listeners may even feel encouraged to experiment with their harmonizing abilities.  Expect this one to be an audience favorite!

Not to be completely outdone, I [personally] cannot help but to pause and give thanks around the two minute, three second marker of “Our Confidence”.  All I have to say is, “periwinkle sparkle haze”, people.

Effectively bringing the (currently?) too-short album to a head, “Dream A Little” contains heart tugging melodic exclamations and a bold charge to defy our world-condemning fear and apathy—all fading into the perpetuity of my heart.