Under A Dying Sun
Under A Dying Sun CD - Substandard
What sells? Nudity, that’s what.
That word, nudity, is a part of a marketing scheme - a fine
one. Here’s to Coors Light, and... and twins! Think of
being at this show, I would fall asleep. But not if we had drugs!
These indie rock stops - from “one of the hardest working
bands in the Bay area,” so they say - are phenomenal,
real hot… but can they pull it off in the buff? I’d
like to see that. Whiney vocals anyone? No. How about pizza?
A resounding yes’m. These good-looking folks (one gal,
four guys) sound passionate. Passionate about not wearing shoes,
maybe. Sha hah ha. In the first song, I can’t hear the
bass. Do you hear any? Nope, none here. Maybe when these folks
can thump, we’ll listen. “Breathe In,” they
tell us in this jerky tearjerker. Save the dead whales. Smell
them, all washed up in the Bay, rotting and stinking. Push those
blubbery fuckers back in the water, before the lamp oil people
get here, quick. “Breathe In,” they said, remember?
Well, I’m not sure if I want to. Maybe I’ll just
suffocate rather than hear the rest of this sensitive trip.
Here’s to Coors Light, and... and twins! (Suzanne Lindsay
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