The Seas |
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PressPatrick Caldwell at the Austin-American Statesman says: If the cardinal sin of pop music is to bore, then someone should proclaim the Seas saints. On the digital-only six-song EP “Head of Snakes” the Austin quartet’s big-tent approach makes for a topsy-turvy, constantly shifting listen that zigs every time you expect it to zag. “The Stars Don’t Shine Just For You” slinks out of the speakers as an atmospheric slice of alternative rock, vocalists Nurk and LaRue trading off yin and yang verses like a downtempo Tears for Fears. But after the anthemic slow build of “Suicide,” with its beautifully romantic sentiment (“We don’t need no suicide for the two of us to get high”) has you expecting six solid songs of endearingly dreamy art rock, “Makeout Bandits” throws a curveball. The uppity country-western barnburner could move boots on the Broken Spoke dance floor, while “Don’t Take My Fun Away” is an invigorating excursion into big brass funk. As Nurk sings on sunny ditty “Lullahello,” “This is your sweet song and it’s all you’ll get from me.” Fortunately, all we get is more than enough. (August 3, 2010)
Austinist.com says: Art-rock group The Seas provide a delicate sound that sits snugly in the underground of psychedelic pop music. The band harbors the whimsical nature of experimental musicians like Beck while focusing on art-rock traditions of acts like Talking Heads... Head of Snakes channels a colorful light cast with unifying creative energy. The vivid progressions and great abstractions manifest into something truly beautiful—a celebration of “we,” which we ourselves (ever-lovers of first-person plural) can’t get enough of. Every aspect of the EP, including the cover art, represents a collage of this uniting, we-are-the-champions sort of feel reminding listeners that together we can accomplish all. ...The collection is chock-full of clever, knee-tapping anthems including “Makeout Bandits,” a fast-paced, rockabilly jazz song evocative of Buddy Holly’s style. “Cruise Shit” travels in a sea of washed out guitars and simmering organs. The EP’s straightforward single, “Stars Don’t Shine Just For You,” is catchy and mesmerizing while “Lullahello” is dreamy and just plain good for the soul. (July 8, 2010)
Austinsound.net says about Let's Fake It: Self-praised as classically un-hip yet still stylish, The Seas debut full length, Let’s Fake It, is full of anti-mainstream pop and is, despite what the band themselves says, cool. The album is hard to put a finger on, built upon frontman Nurk’s jumpy croon and LaRue’s female harmonies. The Seas move so quickly through moods of experimental pop, psych-rock, elegant melody, and 80s post-punk that it sounds as if you went into the future and listened to one of their greatest hits compilations. For instance, “Fallen Devil” makes for a decidedly sunny pop song that strolls through melancholy verses and bursting into Byrne and Weymouth influenced refrain (“You make me leave heaven and happy/ you make me feel like a fallen devil”). On the other end of the spectrum is “Don’t Say Anything,” an unsuspecting sleepy, psych-rock ballad accompanied by punchy metronomic drums. The Seas allow a kind of split personality in Let’s Fake It that keeps things interesting and does wonders for the album’s shelf life. They conjure up a feel of a band incognito — either decidedly shifty in musical taste or just confused. But, for every direction their music goes, the artistic well of the Seas deepens. Songs like “W.I.P” and “Talk to Me” show the quartet steering away from their more jovial inclinations and lend to other, solemn redemptive personas. Even though the band sings about things like post-adolescent sex and romantic mysticism, they still, deep down, have a tarnished ego. “Talk to me talk to me/ no don’t call your lover,” is sung in desperate falsetto over bass-heavy blues and places the dot of insecurity on the Seas own insecure and unassuming nature. The influences on the Seas are vast and it has worked in their favor to produce an honest and eclectic release that sails so easily across genres, it’s something you have to hear to believe. (June 9, 2009)
Caprice Padilla at Insite Magazine says: ’Headless Saint’ leads listeners to believe that the track is the generic, mainstream rock the industry tends to bombard airwaves with. Such expectations are turned upside down upon singer Nurk’s first lyrics. His rich vocals and daring usage of high pitches are perfection.
Michael Barnes at XLent (Austin American-Statesman) says:
Austin Sound says:
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