{"id":21309,"date":"2020-06-08T13:35:43","date_gmt":"2020-06-08T17:35:43","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/panm360.com\/records\/to-let-a-good-thing-die\/"},"modified":"2020-06-08T14:22:39","modified_gmt":"2020-06-08T18:22:39","slug":"to-let-a-good-thing-die-bruno-major","status":"publish","type":"records","link":"https:\/\/panm360.com\/en\/records\/to-let-a-good-thing-die-bruno-major\/","title":{"rendered":"To Let a Good Thing Die"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

For those discovering Bruno Major, To Let a Good Thing Die<\/em> is his second album. It\u2019s in the continuity of A Song for Every Moon<\/em>, with a very nu-soul atmosphere, but nuanced by some folk breaks. The alternation between ballads and soft soul vibes on piano and guitars, along with light beats, elegance and romance mixed in, and the variations of a voice sometimes \u00e0 la Just Jack, sometimes \u00e0 la Damien Rice, are all to be appreciated. \u201cThe Most Beautiful Thing\u201d is beautifully bedecked in Hawaiian sounds, set over a folk-style bass, and the British singer’s range perfectly embraces the ultra-romantic theme of a soft, slow, and sexy walk through an array feelgood tracks. There\u2019s a touch of d\u00e9j\u00e0-vu here, but the fact remains that this recipe works, soothing and yet no less surprising at times, as with tracks such as \u201cI’ll Sleep When I’m Older\u201d, where the guitar arpeggio is sublimated by unexpected violins. The atmosphere lends itself to rest and candlelight, and if there are two in the room, so much the better. And to finish by letting the tracks go by, and know how to say goodbye, is to savour the best part, the hint of the ephemeral bliss this album transcribes so marvellously.<\/p>\n\n\n\n