PRESS
REVIEWS
I love a band that can stab you in the forehead with an ice-pick and then wipe off the blood with a silk hanky.
Brian Westbye, The Noise,
The layers and layers of distorted, crunchy guitars are piled on so thick its like drowning in the deep end of a pool filled with molasses.
J. Lianna Ness, Instant,
Matt, Superstar in Stereo,
One gets the sense that the band exerts a potentially fierce amount of energy in the live format...the riffs stick with you far beyond listening. This is a great album for anyone new to alternative slots in rock 'n' roll who wants to engage in angst-colored pop without having to rely on the less kind Korns or Rob Zombies of the world.
Anne Weeks, The Weekly Dig,
This is the kind of band which, even if they sucked, I'd wanna be their pal. They don't suck a bit. You could run these guys through a Juicemaster and not wring one drop of pretense out of 'em.
Joe Coughlin, The Noise,
While vocal responsibilities are passed between Steve Crotty, Brooke Fletcher and Jeff Ahearn like a bottle of Listerine at a homeless shelter, it becomes painfully evident that these boys couldn't carry a tune if it had handles. Funny thing though, it doesn't stop this self-titled debut from being exceptionally explosive.
Alan Levesque, Northeast Performer,
Douglas Sloan, Metronome,
Imagine please, a type of indie rock that has in it a surprisingly comfortable stadium-like sound, a too sunny and hot southern rock feel, and a combination of thick guitars and melodic vocals. It's likely that the band you begin to imagine is a lot like
Sore #12