"Neptune's Daughter" by Luminescent Orchestrii has been a pain to review.
Part of the problem is that the d*mned thing won't stay still long enough for me to review it. It zigs, zags, fakes left, breaks out into Bulgarian chants, traipeses into Cuban waltzes and slings a human beat box at me when a least expect it.
But the bulk of the issue is that every time I play the CD *I can't sit still*.
There is a propulsiveness to the songs created by this post-modern (and *pre*modern) Brooklyn-based string quartet. They remind me of the Klezmatics, not just because of the occasional bit of klezmer that makes its way into the tunes but because the music insists that you dance, that you move. If you can't dance you find yourself stomping your foot along, drumming your fingers into whatever's handy and driving the other people on the bus (or at work) crazy because they can't hear the music on your headphones.
This album makes me happy. I can't not smile when I've put it on.
As such it is immune to my intellectual dissection.
Discussing the band's skill with their respective instruments (violins, viola, guitar, bass and melodica among them), chatting about the lovely Andrews Sisters-eque vocals, pontificating on Sxip Shirey's mad genius with lyrics, revealing the fact that the title track may be the best soundtrack *ever* for a non-existant early Warner Brother's cartoon, expounding on the album's careful and clear production or musing about how "gypsy" has come to represent a new ragamuffin music collaged together from whatever world genres fit best... it's all pointless.
The music doesn't care.
Luminescent Orchestrii know that they're going to get me dancing about the living room like a was 15 years old rocking out to the Misfits. They don't give two figs about my deep thoughts on the matter.
So my booty says: buy this.
PS: This has the best album cover I've seen all year.