I wish this band had called themselves The John Belushi Deathtrain is Coming and We Will Be Boarding Soon.
Nothing against The Heaves, though. From this live-basement sounding recording you can tell that they are living the American dream, rocking out, drinking beers and having fun. I would hire them to play a party, if I wanted to trash the place and cause mass chaos everywhere. And if I had a dwelling in which to hold a party. Right now I’m stationed in the public library bathroom, tapping into the free Wi-Fi on a laptop I stole from a guy at a bus station. Who knew?!
ARRGHGHGHG. Rock n roll.
Connect the dots…
Band name is “The Heaves”
Dude’s pic is:
He’s got a cigarette and beer in the pic, named his band after a particular style of vomiting, and has a song called “Giant Need”.
Music style = Punk rock.
Cool. This song is a typical punk rock song, and the group makes good on the genre’s well-cemented conventions.
At first their Myspace player was tripping out, with this weird syncopated skipping sound, and I was like whoa, this is a pretty trippy introduction. But it was just a computer glitch.
Tonight first review is of a track by Ian Bouras, titled “Between Love and Loneliness“. Just from the title, you get the feeling that you might be dealing with an early 20’s version of yourself. Remember those times when you got high in college and jammed out on headphones all night on the keyboard in your dorm room, knowing you had a final exam the next morning?
Anyway. I don’t listen to much instrumental electronic music, particularly of the “new age” genre, and so when I started listening to this track I was way too conscious of the synthetic instruments and saturated reverb. But the more I listened the more I forgot about the particularities of the genre and came to accept the song’s motion on its own terms. There’s a really nice breakdown that begins around 3:10 (with a fake horn section I think) and builds to around 3:37, which I really dug. Perhaps because it involves one of my favorite chord progressions, a simple descending three chord line perfectly suited for melancholy.
This song swims in sincerity, so if that turns you off, oh well. There are a lot of nice layers of simple melodies that intersect in epic, tragic waves.
Douchebags and hipsters may scoff, but I dig the heart and homegrown production. I bet David Lynch could use this stuff for a Twin Peaks reunion episode…
I was initially a bit horrified to see an email in my inbox from The White Noise Supremacists, thinking that perhaps David Duke’s campaign manager was spamming me. If he’s not in jail, or something.
She’s Soft Inside
Anyway, The White Noise Supremacists seem to rage sound jihad on a wide range of sounds. I first checked out their video “She’s Soft Inside,” a live performance video. It was grainy and engaging, despite the singer’s seeming catatonia. The sound was rough but the melodies held and carried, some really nice inflections in the just-right spots to squeeze out some drops of blood from this cold heart of mine. A rough crude lovemaking, perhaps something I would listen to if I were fleeing from a crime scene in 1977 with my buddy Derek driving an El Camino. But I mean that in a positive way, because I enjoyed this song a lot.
I couldn’t tell what any of the lyrics are, but the song title suggests that maybe they are about a pelvic exam or something.
Continue reading “The White Noise Supremacists”
When I first heard this song, I was riding my bike in my driveway. I had my old transistor radio plugged into the kitchen socket and connected through the window with an extension cord. My older cousin was mowing the lawn, and my mom had gone to buy food for the fish in our aquarium.
The first chords pummeled through the radio and burst into my ears. I thought we were under attack. I fell off my bike and hit my head on the curb. I tried to scream but the sound of the world’s best song just filled every single molecule in the air, leaving me no way to get my message across. I was like a dying monkey, shaking on the pavement.
The lead singer’s voice was like a golden unicorn, soaring through the air with white feathers. Each word rang true, as if his lyrics were divinely inspired.
To this day I don’t know what that song was, because I soon lost consciousness. When I awoke, I had aged three years and was no longer welcome in the neighborhood.
This song obviously does not exist. And this review is probably the worst review of a non-existent song ever written. But this is all part of our big celebration, announcing that TheMusicSnob.com is welcoming the fearless and many to submit their songs for bizarre, irreverent, and inspired reviews.
Got a song for us? Send us an email…