A New and Greater Tokyo is a brave and beautiful step forward. A golden slice of pop perfection.
Portland Mercury
There's every reason to believe that 2006 is going to be a rosy one for Man of the Year. This band has always aspired to great things, and now the pieces seem to be falling into place.
Portland Tribune
Durango Park rules
- Brent DeBoer, The Dandy Warhols
Durango Park’s brand of rock takes you somewhere between lucid dreams of riding across the rocky desert in an El Dorado, outfitted with broad-chested suits and smoke-filled visions of jukebox singalongs seen through amber sunglasses.
Willamette Week
Neurons get a good workout at this gig, beginning with the quiet, insightful indie-folk meditations of Durango Park…
- John Graham, Willamette Week
Durango Park songs are like slices of melodic heaven – a layer of keyboard hum ... topped with tender... sweet crooning, Yo La Tengo-style.
- Karrin Ellertson, Portland Mercury
Durango Park plays, in the spirit of Elliott Smith, dreamy, mournful vocals and light strummy guitar with a casual feeling of despair.
- Katia Dunn, Portland Mercury
Portland Mercury
There's every reason to believe that 2006 is going to be a rosy one for Man of the Year. This band has always aspired to great things, and now the pieces seem to be falling into place.
Portland Tribune
Durango Park rules
- Brent DeBoer, The Dandy Warhols
Durango Park’s brand of rock takes you somewhere between lucid dreams of riding across the rocky desert in an El Dorado, outfitted with broad-chested suits and smoke-filled visions of jukebox singalongs seen through amber sunglasses.
Willamette Week
Neurons get a good workout at this gig, beginning with the quiet, insightful indie-folk meditations of Durango Park…
- John Graham, Willamette Week
Durango Park songs are like slices of melodic heaven – a layer of keyboard hum ... topped with tender... sweet crooning, Yo La Tengo-style.
- Karrin Ellertson, Portland Mercury
Durango Park plays, in the spirit of Elliott Smith, dreamy, mournful vocals and light strummy guitar with a casual feeling of despair.
- Katia Dunn, Portland Mercury
