Wednesday, February 18, 2009

The Willowz

Self-titled

Impossibly (well, obviously not IMPOSSIBLY, but close) groovy retro-rawk from this 19-year-old-hot-chick-on-bass powered trio from sunny Anaheim. Teen cool creep up-front Richie Eaton (whose mama used to 'date' Henry Rollins, sez here) sounds like that Smashing Pumpkins mope, only all hopped up on Twinkies and the Estrus back catalogue, and even though the whole operation turns swirly and girly when bass-chick (Jessica Reynoza) joins him on back-ups, his whole slacker-snarl vibe is primo garage-brat stuff. Quite frankly, I find it alarming that kids - fuckin' KIDS - can so accurately bang out a sound that their goddamn grandpas (assuming they're related to the Sonics or maybe Bubble Puppy) first dreamed and schemed up, but that's the fact, Jack. Big winners here are opener "Meet Your Demise", a cocky, shaker-maker fuzzbomb, where Richie slurs his words so extravagantly that I thought he was sayin' "Mission to Mars" the first few spins, and heavy, Cream-y acid-psyche freedom rocker "Keep on Lookin'", with vox by Jessy and a monstrous, Frisco-style hippy-love-death-trip groove. The snotty, throwaway "End Song" is annoying-on-purpose enuff to derail the operation for casual listeners, but I don't think the Willowz are gonna HAVE casual listeners, I think their gonna have rabid, devoted worshippers that are gonna carve their logo into their arms, so who cares. Wait, that's Slayer. Well, I dunno what crazed garage rock teens do to prove their love, but there's bound to be some blood spilled over the Willowz, cuz not only do they sound like the White Stripes if the White Stripes were a real fuckin' band and not a tinny gimmick, but the Stripes are like, almost as old as ME, man. Long live the new flesh.

-Sleaze

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