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MH-224 Her Space Holiday - The Young Machines  Change... love... death... infidelity... confession... a break up. Marc Bianchi is nearly surgical in his ability to slice delicate songs of love, loss, hope, despair, and optimism out of one very hard year. His striking new release as Her Space Holiday is The Young Machines, an authentic foray into intelligent dream-pop. The production is everything you have come to expect from Her Space Holiday; intricate string arrangements, analog synth patterns, lush guitar-like drones and tasteful drum programming abound, but it is the songwriting that elevates the album to its elite status. Traditional song structures take unexpected turns throughout, highlighting introspection and vulnerability most often missing in electronic music. The Young Machines is a ten-song encapsulation of a year on the edge and Her Space Holiday's most complete and personal release. |
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| Reviews Summary |
| Gentle, beautiful and unspeakably sad - New York Times / Rapturous and bittersweet, The Young Machines is a soothing swoon - Entertainment Weekly / Terrific stuff - Q / A beautiful bittersweet record - Under The Radar / Often on a par with the very best of Elliott Smith - Uncut / The finest Her Space Holiday release - Pulse / Bianchi has made the album of his life - Logo |
| Reviews | |
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| "Suck on my fingertips, until you kill the prints / So my girlfriend has no clue of how much I've been touching you." Marc Bianchi has problems. He has a drug problem. He can't make someone love him with his songs. He knows a girl that loves to give a piece of herself to every boy she sees. Wait, is that last one a problem? This latest full-length release from Her Space Holiday (his debut on Mush) is undoubtedly the most personal, heavy-hearted collection of songs Her Space Holiday has ever released. Tales of a many broken relationship ("The Luxury of Loneliness") family disorders ("Sleepy California") and grief with faultfinders ("Meet the Pressure") make their way atop the trademark electronic strokes we have grown to admire, along with xylophones and endless layers of strings. "Meet the Pressure" is by far the most direct response to a music review I've heard since Tim Kasher lashed out on "Sink to the Beat" in 2001, and Marc lays down the "fuck yous" atop a mix of sounds that would likely make the Shady/Aftermath camp blush. Don't piss Marc off kids - his chemicals are way off the charts in a wicked way. Indeed one of the more impressive releases of the year, I wonder how one guy can make music so somber that reaches the listener with such charm? Mark Bianchi does is better than many, and I for one am still sold. - Slightly Confusing to a Stranger |
2XLP/Out Of Print