Kramies ‘Hotel in LA’ Review in Various Small Flames
“With a brand of folk-inflected dream pop willing to combine history with folklore and myth, Kramies has made a name across several acclaimed EPs, but this September sees the release of a self-titled debut full-length on Hidden Shoal. Featuring Todd Tobias...Kramies ‘Hotel in LA’ Reviewed at Give It A Spin
“Kramies is a US-based singer/songwriter with lots of experience and music on his back. Having already released the critically acclaimed EP “The Wooden Heart” as well as “Of All The Places Been & Everything The End” produced by Jason Lytle (Grandaddy), Todd...Kramies ‘Of All The Places Been’ Reviewed at Fuzzy Logic
“There’s a bunch of videos out there. Some of them are good. Some of them are a cut above. I like to think my picks for Video of The Day are a cut (or two) above. The last day of the year is a heavy kind of day. It’s a time when many folks think of the...Kramies “Of All The Places Been & Everything The End” Reviewed at Liverpool Sound & Vision
A set of songs that captures the melancholy of human existence and raises it up to be praised and enjoyed.
Kramies “Of all the Places Been & Everything the End” Reviewed at A Decouvrir Absolument
I was listening to his record, when I fell asleep, awake, I was kidnapped years of me, pen in hand, one day in Paris, I was 36, I think, still fresh Fine Arts, I was taken hostage by an illumination, beauty. There are not always clear reasons for these errors produced by his ethereal music, I will logically find myself in a plain of the green Erin to name Celtic deities, both ocean and rock, whose shiny and pale beauty Irish people who were happy, although dark, would have made me fall in love with them, but in these melodies there is art without law, sensuousness without norms and rules, the free lightness of the mind, its malleability to flow from aKramies “” Reviewed at color has a sound, a flavor has a name, there is this magic of unreal, of dreamlike that only lands when it touches the bank of the heart, there is confinement in us, in our experiences, which progressively divide the surpluses and reach the matter of pleasure, like a fountain of youth in our emotions, a return to the moment when, without knowing it, we were dazzled. Strangely, I went somewhere else, almost the opposite, without knowing at the beginning why, but I also remember having sometimes had the image of the “Castle of the Pyrenees” of Magritte while listening to Simon And Garfunkel, this world is too much large to provide only one image per hymn.