"The pills you take don't turn me on" - Owls and Crows

I'll be honest. This is a band I don't know shit about. Never seen them live, but I'm going to fix that tomorrow. They're headlining one of the Black Cat's infinite local band nights at the backstage portion of the club (yanno, downstairs, next to the Red Room...).

I'm basically a huge gaywad for garage rock, even some of the revival stuff (but nothing as queer as the Von Bondies). The Teenage Shutdown comps are basically my bible as far as primitive rock 'n' roll is concerned, not counting the Billy Childish albums I own. I love the primal, gut-churning inarticulateness that's at the heart of all good rock 'n' roll, whether it's the Sonics, Jawbreaker, or My Bloody Valentine. Last time I was in Atlanta, my buddy Josh and I visited his rehearsal space after probably the best Halloween ever ("HEAVY METAL STRIP CLUB!") and ended up drunkenly jamming for a while, and I felt something that John Flory only dreamt of. There's something absolutely orgasmic about feeling the vibrations of sheer noise explode from the amp behind you as you vamp barre chords on an electric guitar.

This is the feeling I get when I listen to Owls and Crows. They sound like a three-chord rendition of naked tree limbs bared against an indifferent grey sky. It's Edgar Allan Poe's compiled edition of Nuggets. It's simple, repetetive, and it feels like the black bile listlessly pumping through your veins when you're supremely pissed off at something you're unable to name. They sound like that feeling you get when you've done something you know is wrong.

At its best, rock 'n' roll is an evil, nearly-mute beast that terrorizes its surrounding. Owls and Crows live up to that nicely.

http://www.mysharefile.com/v/6764107/Owls_and_Crows_Static_Blood.mp3.html

http://www.mysharefile.com/v/4821877/Owls_and_Crows_The_Witch_Comes.mp3.html