Dear NPR:

Recently, I experienced the sound of a new breed of musician. This sound is a spiral of color, twisting and spinning through vast, open skies where whole and half notes hang on wire scales that glimmer above the frigid, dew-moistened plains. My past loves-- Kitaro, Enigma, Enya, Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, Spyro Gyra and Mannheim Steamroller-- cannot touch the pleasure emitted from its whirling planet of beauty. As an avid fan and daily listener of NPR, I felt it my duty to point you longingly in their precise direction.

These musicians are two-- a glorious duo of free and loving hearts, formerly of a critically-lauded "independent rock" band which trotted the globe under the moniker of Tsunami. This duo, Amy Domingues and Bob Massey, now travel our American Cities despite the horrors of desolate alleyways and crumbling buildings. They travel to spread their music, and they are known as Telegraph Melts!

Ilium, the Telegraph Melts' latest priceless work of art, is a journey from the towering green forests of the American mainlands to the oceanic depths of the Atlantic's sandy floor. Each of the record's six songs feel like seperate encounters with the ancient familiars of witches of lore: "Septembrist," a black crow taking flight from the branch of a cypress tree; "Indigo Azure Cyan," the gentle slithering and sudden ferocious attack of a rattlesnake, injecting a field mouse with its deadly venom; "Every Day a Sunrise, a Summer Every Year," a lone treefrog resting in the shade of a large, jagged rock on an Autumn eve. Ilium is a recording I truly cherish, and one that I will hold dear until the jaws of death devour me, leaving only ash and bones as a reminder of my fruitless existence.

After throughly enjoying Ilium, I decided to go back to a time prior to the formation of Telegraph Melts, and experience the ways of Tsunami. And yet, with open mind and spirit, and candles burning, I could not make sense of the chaotic scramble of guitars, and the loud, booming percussion. Thusly, I have decided to cast off its so-called "rock" music fascade, and to instead stick with my Mike Oldfield and Vangelis records. But I might suggest you lend an ear to the wonderous world of Telegraph Melts.

I have enclosed a donation in the amount of $2,000, and look forward to hearing this startlingly talented new twosome on NPR in the near future.

Yours in roses,
Terry Fountains
Fountains & Fountains & Fountains
Attorneys at Law

Dear Ms. Fountains:

We appreciate your donation and have considered your requests regarding Telegraph Melts. Unfortunately, upon contacting the necessary people for a promotional copy of the record, we decided it would be best not to become entangled in a web of shallow "punk rock" politics and petty mind games. However, we did purchase of copy of the album upon your suggestion and found it quite interesting. You see, the Telegraph Melts are part of a subgenre of independent rock music that critics sometimes refer to as post-classical music. It is a type of experimental music that combines elements of "indie" rock with neo-classic influences. Other members of this genre might include Rachel's and Boxhead Ensemble.

While listening to Ilium, we discovered that while the first two tracks are indeed compelling, beautiful pieces, the album's majority failed to hold our attention. We felt the track listing was built around the strength of the two opening songs, and that the rest of the album consisted of seemingly random noodling that is less structured than a plate of cold ramen. Also, since it is against our policy to play anything good, we suggest you recommend only boring music from now on.

Sincerely,
Russell P. Whitlock,
Programme Directore,
National Pretentious Radio

-Ryan Schreiber