7 tracks, 38 minutes…sounds perfect for a day that I forgot was Dad-Rock Tuesday until about ten minutes ago.
It’s currently eleven o’clock. I want to go to sleep. I went ahead and got the post that you’ll be reading tomorrow done; I was about to upload it, too. Then, for some reason, I thought to myself “when was the last time I listened to a dad-rock record?” The answer: exactly one week ago.
Yeah, I’m cranky. Usually, that mindset leads to a negative record review—we’ve seen that happen on many a DRT, actually. I can’t do it with Dire Straits, though. Which is weird because I’m actually seething with anger as I write this—I just can’t direct it at Making Movies.
This is some relaxing, borderline-jam rock right here. Mark Knopfler, in addition to having a hilarious last name that makes me grateful for my two first names, has some great lyrics. Or maybe it’s his delivery, actually. I don’t know, there’s something about this guy that’s just relaxing. The easy-going guitars and slow beats only aid in this record’s groovy relaxation capabilities. If the tracks were shorter, we’d have a really awesome album here, instead of just kind of awesome.
I’ve learned my lesson. Never listen to and review two records back-to-back. Especially after the first album gets you in a terrible mood. So thanks to my half-conscious dad, who I’m sure I awoke from a deep slumber with a phone call requesting an album choice. Also, thanks for staying away from Funkadelic. Tonight is not the night for that.
