Mar 26, 2012

Chaotic, wild, fucked up, drug-fueled, spastic—these are all descriptions that are more than fitting and likely lobbed at Whatever Brains quite frequently. I reckon their starting point is some dank corner of the garage rock thang, but they drown it in synths and a whole buncha other crazy shit and fuel it all with a manic energy that would make Polysics or Le Shok green with envy. Some cat you hate havin’ around ‘cause he’s a complete asshole? Plop this on the ol’ record player when he’s peakin’ and watch the fucker’s head explode.

 –jimmy (Sorry State)

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