Jan 11, 2011

There are times where I enjoy listening to music that I don’t have a firm grasp on… as long as it doesn’t feel like it’s making fun or talking down to me. There’s an easy bubbling-along-to feel of The Intelligence, but it’s a weird bubbling, like bongs filled with cooking oil or vitamin powder fizzing in beer. You can see through it, but it’s still a little bit strange. It’s garage rock with some tasteful interior decorating, but nothing too precious. And that makes sense when the skirt’s lifted on Males. Take the public-access charm of Steaming Wolf Penis, the balance-and-compound-fracture crash into disintegrating triangles of musical notes of The A-Frames, and the Buzzcocks-references-worn-as-warm-sweaters of the FM Knives (no arbitrary references. The Intelligence were in all of those bands previously), and you get Males. The only asterisk, literally, is that the bleep out the word fuck in “White Corvette” and it’s spelled f*ck in the lyric sheet. No value assessment. Just thought it was strange and it brought attention to itself. Very fuckin’ likable.

 –todd (In The Red)

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