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David Mead is a young artist in the classic pop style. He loves the flashes and sensations that come from heroic melodies scored to upstart pianos, brass, violins, violas, lap steels and, of course, aggressive guitars and drums. You can marvel over the imaginative turns and complexities of his textures or you can just sing along. "My family listened to a lot of different music, everything from Billy Joel to Dixie Gospel when I was a kid," Mead says. "It wasn't considered good music unless you could sing along with it." The Luxury of Time, on RCA Records, is a singular debut. From the punched-out Memphis pop of "Robert Bradley's Postcard," which opens the album, through the winding flirtations of "Everyone Knows It But You," to the bleary-eyed resignation of th More... (Submit New David Mead Lyrics) (Submit New David Mead Lyrics) | | ||||||||||
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