The self-titled debut of Simone Felice, is a dark trip down well worn American roads. And by dark, I mean an unnerving preoccupation with death and murder.
The album opener, the deceptively upbeat Hey Bobby Ray, details brutal domestic abuse that ends in homicide. New York Times is a reminder of how morbid modern news outlets can be, and Dawn Brady’s Son has an itchy trigger finger.
Ballad Of Sharon Tate takes Felice’s fixation of mortality a step too far. Eliciting the mental image of Tate ‘with a rope around her neck, and heavy with child’ is just in bad taste.
Artist: Simone Felice
Album: Simone Felice