Citay

On the surface, Citay’s Little Kingdom seems like a good idea: a hazy, blissed-out folk record punctuated with intricate guitar lines, swirling harmonies and light, fluttering rhythms. Yet, on closer inspection, the whole thing falls a little flat. On their sophomore effort, San Francisco’s Citay offer little in terms of variation or excitement. Each of the album’s eight nearly identical tracks — four of which are instrumental — follow one monotonous, and ultimately tiring, formula: first comes some light finger picking, then the incessant soloing of an overdriven guitar, followed by a boy-girl vocal exchange (or not) that uses "ahh” as the chorus, then fade out. Drums, percussion and the odd keyboard are periodically mixed in as well but basically, Little Kingdom becomes eight times that same song. Perhaps Citay intended to evoke some kind of deep, meditative state with the repetition but in reality, the record just ends up being dull.