Not Just Another: Freelance Whales

As a band coming out of Queens, they have a lot to prove in that they aren't just another Williamsburg-hipster hyped majestically fuzzy pop thing.  This group of five, wielding guitars, glockenspiels, tambourines, banjos, harmonium, a waterphone, some keyboard and some computer beats, have brought their scrumptious sound to the indie scene---a sound that made this sector of indie delectable and precious.  Now you know, they aren't just another.

This is not to say that they follow in the steps of their predecessors.  They are far off at once, and then again they warm you up with touches.  Their instrumentation is calm and collected, not rushed, and delicately calculated.  For the sentimentally sensitive, because these melodies are graciously lush.  Their vocals are together, collectively building upon the smooth voices of all of the band members to create an amalgamation of sweetness.  As per their own description, "They invite the human spirit to exit the body, if only for brief moments."      

The Postal Service (textures) + Ra Ra Riot (baroque style) + New York City (gentility) = Freelance Whales.

"Hannah" - This is indescribably infinitely better than anything Owl City could ever dream up.

"Generator (First Floor)" & "Generator (Second Floor)" - Successively.

"Such Great Heights" Meets Generic Metalcore

Over the past few years, it's become common practice for many metalcore bands to record and release "ironic" covers of mainstream hits. Songs from "Bad Romance" to "Since U Been Gone" have been slathered with repetitive, discordant riffing, squealing pinch harmonics, and guttural vocals. I woke up this morning to find a link that my friend had posted me to SoCal metalcore group Confide's cover of The Postal Service's "Such Great Heights." Singers Ross Kenyon and Joel Piper deliver a one-two punch of frenzied shrieks and glossy, ready-for-top-40 cleans. For some reason, I find the transfiguration of this song and the video that accompanies it particularly lol-inducing. Maybe it's the band members' testing of the resiliency of their skinny jeans through intense crabcore squatting à la Attack Attack! Maybe it's their synchronized bouncing to the brvtal breakdowns that grace the song. Maybe it's the sullen close-ups of those mournful faces bounded by perfectly straightened hair. I don't know. Decide for yourself.