A two-man wrecking crew that pounds and sweats out the blues with hypnotic guitar riffs, 5-gallon buckets and a country-mile of duct tape.
A funky haze drifts over the album, riding moody psychedelic grooves into hook-laden choruses.
A howling and thumping blues punk duo that drag tired blues structures out to the garage to feed them amphetamines and drown them in cheap beer.
Consistently making the best pop punk album you’ll hear each year.
The moan and squall of a harmonica plays foil to charging guitar riffs. Combined with shredded vocals and a pounding drum, it all whips up into a wild batch of rock n' roll.
Gorgeous and delicate melodies, vocals just above a whisper. Perfectly accompanies Portland's seemingly endless cold, gray winter days, and apparently ballet.
Their bouncing hooks and electronic island beats make me smile every time.
Mellower than I initially hoped, but the lush harmonies and lyrics about wild and murderous characters won me over.
A folk-singing hurricane of a one-man band, pounding out the bottom end on a kick drum and high hat as he powerfully strums his guitar.
Sure-to-wake-your-neighbors, dance-beat fiasco tracks with wall-shakin' drums and spastic vocals.
1 Comments:
There were so many good albums I had to leave off this list. My next 5 would probably be: High Violets' Cinema, Menomena's Mines, Mimicking Birds self-titled debut, Nick Jaina's A Bird In The Opera House, and Sassparilla's Ramshackle.
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