I’ve long been of the opinion – often unjustifiably – that if you can’t bother to think of a decent name for your band, I’m under no obligation to listen to your music.
It’s for this arguably silly reason that I initially turned a blithely deaf, disinterred ear towards bands like Chairlift and Car Seat Headrest. I mean, seriously – you couldn’t’t think of something better? I mean, there were bands like Shit Robot, Diarrhea Planet and Mannequin Pussy that I was turned off by, but at least they were sort of crassly amusing in a juvenile and/or scatological way. I similarly blanched at Pissed Jeans as …. ewww… but when I was emphatically informed of their considerable merits by my comrade Drew (recently invoked here), I was schooled in the error of my ways. Pissed Jeans is indeed a gross name, but it fits their aesthetic perfectly. When you hear their music, the name makes perfect sense.
One band I’ve absolutely never given the time of day to is an outfit called Real Estate. Why? Because fuck that name, that’s why. It’s beyond boring. As a result, I cannot tell you one, single thing about them. Not one.
Well, my prejudice towards them may be slavishly unjustified, as according to my comrade EV Grieve, their heart's in a comparable place to mine. The Brooklyn band are promoting their new album by “touring their favorite NYC record stores – even though three of them are now closed.”
A silly stunt that would only mean something to a smattering of people, but I’m one of those people. At some point today, they’ll be performing outside of the former sites of Other Music, Kim’s and my beloved Rocks In Your Head. They'll also be at Rough Trade.
Check Grieve’s post for more details.
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