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In Daisy Jones & the Six, the bestselling novel impressed by Fleetwood Mac’s tumultuous historical past, Taylor Jenkins Reid writes an album’s price of track lyrics to trace at her fictional band’s pathos. Within the climactic “Regret Me,” frontwoman Daisy Jones delivers a devastating burn to her co-lead and songwriting accomplice, Billy Dunne: “When you think of me, I hope it ruins rock’n’roll.” It’s a horrible line, however within the e book it’s met with shock and awe. Reid’s lyrics are full of zingers capturing the vocalists’ romantic rigidity, a pressure that in the end spells the Six’s undoing.
“Regret Me” will get the total studio therapy within the Amazon Authentic sequence, an adaptation of Reid’s e book. Whereas the TV model of that track is outfitted with new lyrics, the barbs are equally clunky: “Go ahead and regret me/But I’m beating you to it, dude.” Nonetheless, the soundtrack album accompanying the sequence, Aurora, is a can’t-lose proposition for producer Blake Mills. With crack session gamers and a fathomless finances behind him, he will get to chase his personal Laurel Canyon masterpiece; the fictional conceit supplies cowl when he falls quick. Contributors on this document embrace Marcus Mumford, Madison Cunningham, and Roger Joseph Manning Jr. The truth that they received the Jackson Browne to jot down music for the difference of a grocery store novel says extra in regards to the document biz than Amazon’s mockumentary probably might.
At its most bold, Aurora approximates the incremental trajectories of Fleetwood Mac’s late-’70s work. “Let Me Down Easy” and “Regret Me” careen by means of hanging melodic pivots, anchored by heat Rhodes keys and the vocal harmonies of actors Sam Claflin and Riley Keough, who play Jones and Dunne within the sequence. On “Look at Us Now (Honeycomb),” the acoustic chords and kick drum collect momentum en path to a hovering single-chord guitar solo. It’s a transparent nod to Rumours’ “The Chain,” however the diploma of intricacy—to not point out the bravura guitar work—makes for a rewarding homage.
Mills is aware of that attempting to duplicate Fleetwood Mac’s opus is a idiot’s errand, so he hedges his bets. The title monitor is extra redolent of the Nashville machine than Laurel Canyon, and the vocal duets betray a Broadway sheen. On “Look at Us Now,” Claflin’s exaggerated vibrato fails to compensate for underwritten lyrics: “I don’t know who I am, baby, baby, baby/Do you know who you are? Is it out of our hands?” There’s no symbolism or mystique, no white-winged doves or Rhiannons—it’s exhausting to think about any of those adult-contemporary present tunes cracking the FM rotation, not to mention in 1977.
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