This garage rock/art punk revivalist trio consists of a drummer, a singer (or wailer/whiner/whatever) and a guitarist. No bassist. They make due just fine.
Eleven gives you a chance to weep at the feet of genius. Beautiful, swelling, heart-rending songs that’ll have you belting out the melody after a few listens.
Not since Four Non Blondes have I been so moved by vocals. Her bubblegum cute whisper turns into a tormented croak, and the haywire vibrato must be heard.