The Buried Life (American)
by Paul Lee
Tranquil, sugar-coated vocals skimming across ragged, squawking guitars to tinny dance beats is the best description I’ve come up with after seven cross outs. Noise Pop hints at the fingernails-on-the-chalkboard guitar sound, but doesn’t do the smooth pop moveability justice. Likewise, Art Rock could call to mind images of lofty creativity with clever lyrics and innovative instrument manipulation, but would skimp on the abrasive, garage-style chaos used as a backdrop. This is not a soothing cup of tea; the trippy psychedelia is offset by ear-grating buzzsaws and cringing guitar noise.
Once you transcend the initial “My God! That sounds awful!” shock, the songs liquify. Medicine may be hard to swallow at first, but the effects are sweet.