Swimmer

Surreal (Maverick)
by Jamie Kiffel

Curled up on the stale bagel crumb-stiff industrial dorm furniture in the back of a nicotine-sticky coffeehouse thick with ash and cold, wet grinds, high school kids conspire over cigarettes and makeout to the buzzing, minimalist vocals of Swimmer‘s Anday McCarron. With guitar string-buzzy vocals like a tongue out-of-focus, McCarron edges on ’80s hair metal, with falsetto, restrained ballast yells, an occasional ballad, and very simple, elemental guitars.

The occasionally excellent rhythm of McCarron’s patter makes this interesting, as in “Surreal,” where he’s “back in Buffalo, tuning a radio,” and the electrical hum in his vocal chords give reason to lend him an interested, sidelong glance. Lights out, stereo levels lit and leaping in bright bedroom arcs, this is still good midnight makeout music.
(9348 Civic Center Drive Beverly Hills, CA 90210)