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Baby Boy H | The Imaginary Dream | review | rock | Lollipop

Baby Boy H

The Imaginary Dream
by Scott Hefflon

Unsigned Boston band, two records deep. Evidently, the first was filled with hope, and this one's not. This sucker's got a big wash of cosmic questioning and soul-searching, thick reverb on the guitars, and both tinkering and non-metal chugging guitars. Local rags seem to want to gush about Baby Boy H's powerhouse female singer (she's a hellion, no doubt, and even classier is that there aren't scantily-clad photos of her on the cover or anywhere in the booklet, and it's not like she's hard on the eyes), but The Imaginary Dream must have more instrumental passages, cuz no one happens to mention the might of the music, which swirls powerfully around her like a storm to, er, Storm. Captivating instrumentals are hard, especially without some virtuoso wanker like Steve Vai or something soloing his dick off, basically just replacing a mouth-flapper. No, like Pelican and few others, the BAND can hold the spotlight on their own.

But yeah, the singer, known only as Bridge, can belt it out, whisper in your ear, and shriek and snarl and spit like a madwoman. Each song is mammoth, building slowly and steady until the climax, and then you realize you've been staring in silence at the speakers for over a minute, mouth slightly ajar. Not since Karyn Crisis have we heard such banshees wails (except maybe in vampire movies as they burn in flames).


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