Black Cat Music
October November Lookout!
________________________________________________________
Black
Cat Music is a junkie-glam cum jangly bliss-rock band from Frisco. Seein’
as BCM is littered with former members of glue-sniffers like the
Criminals, the Receivers, and lotsa other “the” bands, you’d
figure there’d be more of a snarl to their sound, but this
three-years-and-running (s)institution sound like they were born draped in
scarves and velvet and reeking of gin vapors. Omar Perez’s snaky bass
comes on like the constant patter of black rain, and vox-man Brady
Baltezore has one of those whine-his-way-outta-trouble voices, ya know
the type. He sounds skinny, which is perfect for this kinda
desperation boogie. “October, November” (release date: May,
natch) is the Black Cat’s third full-length, and like their previous
efforts, it’s chockfull of long-legged deathtrip-chic ballads and
gutter-glam rockers. Personally, I found the oozing suicide blooze of “Down
Pretty Low”, a very Nikki Sudden-esque swell of haunted guitars
and battering R&B, and the just plain druggy “Cloud of Glam” the aces
in this deck, but I dunno, there’s lotsa Stones-y rattle on here too,
and, well, do people still like the Strokes? If so, this oughta sell
6 million copies, at least.
________________________________________________________
Black
Cat Music is a junkie-glam cum jangly bliss-rock band from Frisco. Seein’
as BCM is littered with former members of glue-sniffers like the
Criminals, the Receivers, and lotsa other “the” bands, you’d
figure there’d be more of a snarl to their sound, but this
three-years-and-running (s)institution sound like they were born draped in
scarves and velvet and reeking of gin vapors. Omar Perez’s snaky bass
comes on like the constant patter of black rain, and vox-man Brady
Baltezore has one of those whine-his-way-outta-trouble voices, ya know
the type. He sounds skinny, which is perfect for this kinda
desperation boogie. “October, November” (release date: May,
natch) is the Black Cat’s third full-length, and like their previous
efforts, it’s chockfull of long-legged deathtrip-chic ballads and
gutter-glam rockers. Personally, I found the oozing suicide blooze of “Down
Pretty Low”, a very Nikki Sudden-esque swell of haunted guitars
and battering R&B, and the just plain druggy “Cloud of Glam” the aces
in this deck, but I dunno, there’s lotsa Stones-y rattle on here too,
and, well, do people still like the Strokes? If so, this oughta sell
6 million copies, at least.