These songs are kinda weird, slow and old-sounding. My brother told me they were written by some guy named Curt Vile. He’s one of those death-metal guys, right?
Backwoods, redneck rock here to fuck shit up. Speedkills scum punk and roadhouse/outhouse shit-talkin’ jams. “New Country” should be bellowed from bar stools.
Smart, enigmatic lyrics delivered with vocals both imploring and roaring, ultimately erupting into jagged explosions of roaring discord and sonic overflow.
Three songs in sixty minutes, stretching out languidly into the infinite without succumbing to Phishy-smelling jam tendencies or circumambient snoozatoria.
A quiet revolution filtered through open ears – there was classical, slide blues scrapings, and the sounds of his louder descendents made over into ambience.
Four guys from Mesa, Arizona on their way to the MTV buzz bin in a (sometimes) hard rock band with a cool name playing distorted, clingy, guitar-intense music.
Gone are the snakespit vocals, replaced by Anders Fridén and his huskier snarl. The dueling guitars, battling in mid-air like bloodthirsty hawks, remain.
If those that preceded them relied on divine motionlessness, Hovercraft was all about momentum, driving onward and upward to a point that never arrives.
Furry Things were a subtribe known to shed their coats frequently. They moved early from the Land of the Lo-Fi, peregrinated to the shores of Shoegaze.