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With its Byrds-inpired jangle, harmonized “whoah-oh”s, and overflowing nervous energy, this could very well be an unearthed recording from the liminal era between “new wave” and “alternative”.
If there is one word to describe this latest outing from Kim Salmon, with its droning rumbles, hazy distortion, and proto-punk vibe, it is “menacing”. This is an album you apologize to, maybe buy it a drink to be safe.
It’s not ska, and it’s not rocksteady, but it’s definitely Jamaican and powerfully dancy — you can call it “69 Reggae” after the year of its initial popularity.
No denying this band exists in a dual space of Gen X ridicule and genuine nostalgia. The new album is filled with the same sunny indie-rock wink-and-grin disposition that rightfully earned them the title, broadcasting into/from the airwaves of 1994.
One final challenge awaits: swim through the Reservoir of Bliss, filled with honey, liquid moonlight, and endorphins, then dance in slow motion across the infra-disco, as BRONCHO's underwater guitar syrup and whispered falsetto choruses are playing.
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