i know, i know, i've been bagging on high schoolers and college students pretty ruthlessly lately, but man, i don't have a fucking plan for this crap. i get a big pile of tapes and shit there and sometimes i just start running em in, barely knowing what to expect. it ain't my fault all this garbage coalesced in front of my stereo this time.
anyhow, if you were wondering what th type of kids (namely carlos avendaño, later of flotation walls) who woulda started arcade fire (no i still don't know what they sound like, just that there are a lot of them) ripoff bands had it been 2010 were doing in th mid-'90s, well OF COURSE they were ripping off th most over-over-overwrought pseudo-orchestral smashing pumpkins melodrama. and yes, it's chockfull of KILLER lines like "all the pain that comes with you" and "this is who i am" and shit (fave: "some things we find by losing").
what puzzles me MOST about this stuff (and yes, many things about it puzzle me, including th brain-fucklering fact that these tapes were recorded at schwab and ultrasuede - not cheap studios - while everybody else was bugging out on th fact that 8 track cassette decks were being made) is th way th girl/boy vocals don't harmonize or even exist on th same plane. i guess it's maybe just a symptom of young women who listen to too much tori amos (still not really sure what she sounds like either but there's definitely too much of her) or something, but there's NO EFFORT made to conjure a collective [good] thing out of th various parts - and i guess that could be applied to th entirety of th music. everyone's playing th same song, in some way, but it's like after they agreed roughly on however to do that they just never listened to each other or th collective result, and it doesn't form anything attractive - much less magical. and i'd think that's what billy corgan-obsessed kids would be interested in - some kinda hokey "magic" (via feigned depression, natch) - but maybe they were just trying to grow ponytails and touch panties. in which case i hope they succeeded (i don't. -ed.), 'cause there's nothing about this that satisfies even th most vague and forgiving notion of why one wants/needs music in their life; it's utterly joyless navel-gazing schlock made by people who haven't actually had any experiences yet but have evidently been GRAVELY affected by their few attempts at spin the bottle or something. (i honestly don't want to give th impression that i don't think childhood/adolescence/etc can't be/isn't a bizarre, fuckedup time or that i refuse to acknowledge how oddly/deeply [seemingly tiny] gestures/occurrences/etc can punch into a kid's unconscious, but when it manifests itself into tchotch like this a) i have trouble believing th experiences aren't simply invented and 2) well, sometimes BAD is BAD.) all in all it sounds like they simply hadn't yet figured out that they could just go to th fucking renaissance faire…and, actually, if all th lyrics were about quests and mythical beasts and shit i would probably like this enough to tolerate th fucking girl's voice, even.
but maybe you'll like it.
download
"through my looking glass i see all the ache inside of me."
SERIOUSLY.
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