Saturday, March 14, 2015

Artist: The Bingers

Artist: The Bingers
Links: https://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Bingers/219724941387230
http://thebingers1.bandcamp.com/

The buy rating on the Bingers' Blow It Away is based on two facts universally known and objectively observed. Number one, its cover art rivals that of the Bingers' debut, Land Lobster. Number two, lead track Fuzzy picks up right where [Rhymes w/ Fingers-closer] The Flying Shitshow Fuckfest Blues left off: yelp-punctuated garage punk wail; prominent in the mix effects-laden guitar lead; and a tempo best described as tambourine-on-a-motorcycle. Apparently, the Bingers can still get us “twisted like a throttle.”

Always such a scene-stealer before, Teddy retains the character of his Sonics-caliber howl while making room in the frame for other elements [e.g. clean guitar and hand claps on Fuzzy] with the recording help of fabled garage producer, Shimby (who usually only mixes the Bingers). And not to be outdone by Rhymes w/ Fingers, which introduced a new facet of the Bingers with the psych-noise of In A Thought, Blow It Away thrills with the peculiar and lyrically-appropriate vocal performance of Creeper. It's an ode to the girl who doesn't know she's being serenaded – the narrator, a contemporary rendering of an archetype formerly content to gaze upon a wall-mounted Polaroid mosaic of her stunning visage (now on the internet).
Just as effective as the vocal backdrop of Land Lobster [the song], Creeper's medicated “woa-ohs” bound around our narrator's rubber room as he shouts/excretes the charcoal/laxative cocktail from his most recent drug overdose. Similarly infected, and following a guitar intro beat-split to perfection, Sizzler features Blow It Away's standout vocal, “Get your fix on a belly full of pills,” replete as it is with the same resplendent weirdness we recall from the funny-talk of Land Lobster's Cheetah High Heels.

Blow It Away improves on Rhymes w/ Fingers by flexing a love-muscle atrophied since Land Lobster's Young With You. Love Go Wrong has the Bingers at long last opening the overhead door to watch the rain (better than letting it ruin band practice). With a melancholy vocal reminiscent of Elvis Costello-update Christopher Owens (Girls), the narrator takes us through a day in the life of a man not really living. Love lost, he's still waking up, walking down the street, getting high, but he's stuck inside his own head. Its narrative nuance, “I don’t care about that man that you got now / I just want it back somehow” and “I don’t care about the pasts that we both have / You’re a mess and I’m a drag,” sets up a melodic hook (e.g. :49-1:08) that could have single-handedly moved the song to my playlist of favorites. Turns out, our coverboy badass stopped off at his old lady's house on the way to the rock show. (What a softie.)

The Bingers' is not unlike the other 8,000 garages in the city. It's just the one you keep going back to. It's got the couch. Its music makes it the place to be. Over and over again. Until the Bingers become the soundtrack to you at your happiest.

*** The author of this review, Daniel Thomas, plays the alcahuete for the following band: http://youtu.be/tMS73-1kCr8

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