Sneaks in like it doesn't know any better. Like it's not from 2013 but 1979, 1987, or 1999. Like it's raw and artless. Like if Brainbombs awoke from their nihilistic fatigue and got in touch with their shitty feelings. Like if emo kept to power chords as an appropriate way to express these feelings. Like its garage-ness isn't planned but spontaneous. But it does! Know better, I mean. Know what it's doing, that is. More feely than raw and transgressive, its decided simplicity works because of its rugged physicality. Its familiarity works because of its influences. Its timelessness works because of its access to retrospection. Its intelligence is its arty awareness of the fact that heart should emerge from passionate ugliness, and You're Nothing works because it always makes sure to let that happen.
B
buy / try
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