The Willowz played while Kristen Dunst danced in her underwear in Eternal Sunshine of the Whateverthefuckitwas. They’re already cooler than you’ll ever be.
My pre-conceived notions developed from apathetic listenings of the first two White Stripes records were fucking blown to smithereens when I saw ’em live.
The low-end drone is its Salisbury steak, the L7-ish vocals are the mashed potatoes with gravy, and the ’70s acid rock nostalgia kick is its peas and carrots.