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If this band were actual woods, they would be filled with fog swirling in sunlight, sparkling yet tenebrous, a distant falsetto clearly audible inside your ear as the leaves are chiming in the light.
I don’t know why I want to call this sound “California country”, when it’s not from California nor is it truly country, but its twangy aroma and psychedelic coloring are probably a big reason why.
When you make pop psychedelia with an exotic yet indeterminate element, you end up with the musical soundtrack to a children’s television show from an alternate reality.
On Halloween I fell asleep to this horror-punk platter playing, and dreamt of whirling in a mosh pit in a toxic swamp, catching elbows and knees from zombie alligators and bouncing off leaking radioactive waste barrels. I woke up covered in bruises.
Like the whoomp from pouring too much firestarter on and throwing the match in, this band is in your face, exciting and a bit scary at the same time, with its snarling guitars, sneering vocals, and the heft of every possible item in the garage.
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