Danny Hawk went from Dublin to Malibu on his musical journeys. He settled there. Somehow his CD from last year turned up for review at W&H headquarters in County Cork. It wandered through several hands and the job was down to me. In Yorkshire, where we are blunt and opinionated.
It’s difficult. You hear a new artist every day of the week. You get cynical. It all starts to sound like a mush. But sometimes it is mush. Sometimes it's by a pleasantly deluded guy with a mission to change the world through meditatively inspiring waves of sub-Mike Oldfield cliché.
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And this, dear reader, is just such an occasion. Sorry Danny, but if you wanna be a therapist, get training. If you wanna be a musician you're going to have to distinguish yourself from the crowds. Be better, be worse, it doesn’t matter. But this is bland, derivative and virtually (no, cancel that ... it’s actually) unlistenable. And your website gave me more pop-ups than Pop Up City on National Pop Up Day. Not Amused.
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