Hey, so here we are, and I have a head pain like my skull is bruised. But I think one way to remedy that is by listening to a group of kids who make weird music in their bedrooms. Like, maybe if you sound like some garage revival band from the early Aughts (you know the one!) or if you make a digital beat tape that’s the one and only way I can recall that proves Madonna would be really good at doing aerosol can PSAs, then that will heal me.
Nashville’s Noah Kittinger did a good job choosing a band name, because now I don’t really have to say anything.
This is very much the Strokes, but circa 2001 the Strokes is the only one anyone cares about anyway.
Really sweet pop smirks. From Sweden, with handclaps. Like skipping through a field of daisies with stems like mozzarella sticks in an animated cartoon in which you’re the hero with the braids.
Woah, RITCHRD’s got us sinking into a steamy hot tub of foggy, hairsprayed beats, bouffant percussion and then a few blips that are like when your dad says, “You’re totally not wearing that out of the house!”