BRIDEZILLA @ echo

thedrones

I suppose The Drones aren’t the most cuddly bear in the cave. But they bring something special to rock ‘n’ roll. It’s music that’s deadly serious and somewhat topical (see: world’s gone to shit and getting goner) but never preachy or overblown (just blown-out). It’s brutishly confrontational and classically infectious in equal measure. Their up-tempo songs are big, brash bluesy hard rock burners that bore right into you like all the best ones do. And the intermittent slower tunes are devastating in a fashion somewhere between sick solace and gnashed stoicism. As the lyrics become increasingly discernible and Gareth’s voice more vulnerable, you find yourself helplessly entwined with their enraged omniscient narrator in weary repose. Although the words are consistently resolve-sappingly bleak (“Stage fright is proof that nothing’s right”), the music never loses its woozy, elemental pull. Singing the most wretched kind of poetry, even at the core of diaper mountain, there is a dependably relaxed sort of grace to Liddiard’s choked delivery.

Havilah is more humblingly good music at a time when rock music is more about being it’s-all-been-done humble. I guess the “me decade” is no time for heroes. Instead, I’ll flash my indulgent critic’s badge and appraise this band in defiance of their self-deprecating name: essential. I know this is a groan-inducing, sound-bite-style reduction; that’s exactly what they are. They’ve been laboring in obscurity, busting their asses to produce stultifying peals of simmering/careening brilliance for years now. Maybe they’re justifiably content enough with their accomplishments as is, but I can’t help but think that it’s time for y’all to get wise. This is the sound you need to get for right now, and it’s built to last well past that. – Tiny Mixtapes

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Bridezilla || Listen