My old man was a bee keeper. I can remember asking him about the difference between the golden honey and the blackened honey. He explained that the lighter the honey the more clover had been worked by the bees. He said the lighter was easier to sell and he could ask for more on a jar of it. He said that he didn’t recognize much difference in the taste, but that most folks are more drawn to the color than the flavor. He sold honey at work, and he mentioned how a couple of people there actually preferred the dark. There are three cases of his honey sitting right behind me as I write this. The next jar pulled to be used will be the blackest jar in the lot.
This band from Brighton, England draws many influences of time periods into my mind while perusing their catalog. The vocals are as clean and crisp as a tree-ripened Golden Delicious picked amongst freshly falling leaves. Reading some other revues, the word shoegaze is used liberally. I like the slight western sounding twang of the guitar that spreads it wings and floats each tune into a nostalgic warm place for me. This band makes music that makes me feel good. It’s not as deep or reflection-inducing as most creations shared here, but Black Honey has a place in any day for me.
Paul Lester’s review (Link)
Black Honey Links
“If you never want to go astray, never ask a question; never entertain any doubts; never break a rule; never cross a boundary. Stick true to the prescribed territories and you will be heaven-safe. The most lasting cure for unbridled curiosity is unyielding certainty. However, to those who hear silent echoes in the gaps, and heed their ancient call; to those who will fall by the wayside, a rousing realization will await you as you pierce the sullen membranes and hit the floor: there are no highways. Certainty is a ruse – the innkeeper’s silent chuckle. There are no fixed territories or final destinations. No stable spots. And we all are inhabitants of a wildness so alive, so intrusively alive, that even the dead things stare when we are not looking, and mock our snotty-nosed declarations of safety. The most lasting cure for unyielding certainty is a trip to where the wild things are: in your blind spots. ” -Adebayo C. Ako