
Now Then
Artist: Sunday's Child
Label: Bulletproof Records 1997
I heard good things about this before I listened to it. * Sigh!
* Maybe next time. Now Then is not bad; it just didn't live
up to my expectations, even after I listened to it several times.
I kept putting this review off because I wanted to say good things about
it.
The theme seemed very interesting. It's the prodigal son story
(or prodigal husband in this case) of Victor Silas. There are a couple
of songs about his life before he leaves for Vegas; one about his arrival;
one about his fall; and the rest focus on his redemption. This is
so short (less than 36 minutes excluding the 5+ minutes of dead space)
that you really don't get a chance to enjoy the story being told -- if
it weren't for the liner notes, you probably wouldn't even know there was
a common theme running throughout. Another 10-15 minutes of songs developing
the theme would help tremendously, and the lyrics could also use some rewriting.
There is an extra track that is an excellent "moral of the story" wrap-up,
and may well be the best track of the disc.
The music itself is not bad, but not great either. It is light
alternative rock with soft (bordering on weak) vocals. The production quality
is about as bland as it gets and does little to enhance the music.
If you are a music-addict that has to have something to listen to
in the background while you are working, then this is a good fit.
If you are mesmerized by rock operas and music that tells a story then
you will enjoy reading the liner notes and listening along as the story
progresses. Otherwise, this is an average work.
By Mark Aylor
 
In a structure similar to The Who's Tommy, the sophomore
release from Sunday's Child, Now Then, sketches the allegorical
journey of Victor Silas, a prodigal who squanders his deep South inheritance/birthright
in Las Vegas during the nation's bicentennial. The sound is generally light
modern rock with plenty of harmonic overtones, and some interesting samples
thrown in occasionally.
The clear, spare singing of David Vanderpool gets the message across
nicely. The jewel case's novelty spine featuring a silver roulette
ball gives the CD hands-on appeal, but misrepresents the project. Sunday's
Child doesn't convey a good sense of "place" for their story; Silas's fall
could be anywhere. Far more effective than their attempts to capture reckless
debauchery in Sin City are the numbers that involve the heroine of the
morality play, Grace. All in all, a pleasant little project, the
sort of thing you could shove in the hands of your buddy when he confesses
he's leaving his wife.
By: Linda T. Stonehocker
  
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