Reviews

Liz Enthusiasm tolkar klassiker
2005-01-04
http://www.zeromagazine.nu/nyhet.asp?id=904

Liz Enthusiasm, till vardags sångerska i Freezepop, har tillsammans med Gordon Merrick satt sig ner och tolkat en handfull favoritlåtar. Resultatet är en 6-spårs cover-ep med namnet Best Friends Forever. Bland annat tolkar duon Yazoo’s ”Only You”, A Flock Of Seagulls ”Space Age Love Song”, The Churchs “Under The Milky Way” och Goo Goo Dolls “Don’t Change”. Skivan finns att ladda ner gratis på adressen www.trifectapress.com/gordon/BFF.html

Jonaz Björk

ed. note: I'm not quite sure what to make of this one, but I am sure that the Goo Goo Dolls didn't do "Don't Change."

Missing Blog
http://missing.em411.com/forum/16310/10/internet_mp3s.html

For some very peculiar reason, the name Gordon Merrick seems an especially creepy one to me, as if I've just seen on the news that he's recently been arrested for having committed something most unsavoury. But, being the broadminded sort of fellow that I am, the feelings of unease brought about by his moniker have not proved a handicap when it comes to enjoying his Best Friends Forever mini-album, a six-track collection of breathy 80s pop cover versions that comes with vocals by Liz Enthusiasm of Freezepop fame.

The arrangements are neatly straightforward interpretations of generally well-known tracks, and while Merrick's take on "Only You" doesn't bring a whole lot new to the table, "Don't Change" and "Space Age Love Song" are more imaginatively understated pleasures. There's no challenge involved here, obviously, but as a gentle, fun way of easing in the New Year, Best Friends Forever fits the retropop bill extremely well. And I'm quite, quite sure that, in presenting a whole host of other tracks for free download from his page, Gordon Merrick is a totally blameless individual with a stain-free character.

Gordon Merrick/Rebecca Gates/Lonesome Organist/Skating Club Show, 7.03
from www.toomuchrock.com

At 9:30 TT’s was still bare. There were a few cliques lining the walls and corners of the club, but definitely no anticipatory fans pressed to the front of the stage. Maybe they were afraid? The stage was a hodgepodge of hokey lighting gimmicks and electronics. It looked like a junk shop or a suburban basement with its retired toys and kitschy fads. When the lanky Gordon Merrick stepped onto the stage in a startling orange shirt, the audience was introduced to this collector of the discarded.
I grabbed my camera and began to prepare for whatever was to come. As you guys have probably noticed, I take a lot of pictures. Why not, they’re free, right? The sad news is I delete more than half of the ones I take before you ever see them. I also take video which most of you never see. Currently, I travel with four memory cards (purchased at various times as technology and pricing allowed): 8MB, 16MB, 32MB, and 256MB. Normally I go home with each filled. When I hunted through my camera bag for cards, I found none. Inside the camera were the 8MB and the 16MB. I could take only 24MB worth of pictures? As a result, I was forced to be stingy with the photos early in the evening. This was particularly heartbreaking, as the stage accoutrements begged for documentation.
Gordon Merrick began his set by introducing himself to the audience; it seemed, however, as though the majority of those who had moved toward the stage were actually friends of his. Curiously, he chose to begin his set with a song that usually features a vocalist who wasn’t able to make it to the show. He apologized for the “octave work” he was about to attempt, pressed play, grabbed a tambourine, and waded right into The Partridge Family’s “I Woke Up In Love.” I listened closely to the backing “tape” wondering if he was simply providing karaoke to existing recordings, or if he was even singing at all. How elabourate would this farce be?
Merrick followed the gaiety of The Partridge Family with a minor key version of Steve Perry’s “Oh Sheri,” and then tackled Gary Wright’s “Dream Weaver” with the help of a mysterious male vocalist with an appropriately high vocal range. After nailing the dreamy flourishes in “Dream Weaver” on what appeared to be an electronic Autoharp of sorts, I figured Merrick might be for real.
In truth, Gordon Merrick is quite a musician. His arrangements are often smart, and most breathe new life into a repertoire of songs as discarded as the items he assembles on stage. His keyboard and guitar work were surprisingly apt (if not actually impressive). Those still doubting Merrick’s skills need only to hear his plinking and bubbling realization of INXS’s “Don’t Change.” While certainly biased by the additional voice of Liz Enthusiasm of Freezepop, the song sounded as fresh as current college radio darlings The Postal Service.
Although only a few songs sounded as if they were ready to win critics’ hearts, even the worst of them were entertaining. Merrick’s emasculation of Night Ranger’s “Sister Christian” was little more than Merrick hamming cheesy vocals over a midi download of the original arrangement, but even then the audience was wowed by his showmanship.

Blurbs
It’s like a rainbow and a unicorn having sex.
Doug McDermott
giantheads.com

…one imagines your larynx has feetie pajamas.
Thank you for draining all of the crusty sacchrin out of that song and distilling only its consoling essence.
Abigail Bell
Art Historian

I like them better than the so-called originals, I really do.
Sean T. Drinkwater
Lifestyle

Like a mellow Ricky Nelson...
Peter McNally
brother of Playwright Terrence McNally

Sublime...
Chandler Travis
The Chandler Travis Philharmonic

This is dreamy...
Liz Enthusiasm
Freezepop

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