RAMONA: Sad Brunch: CD

This band is gorgeous. Yes, I sometimes describe sounds with visual descriptors, and, no, I’m not one of those folks with synesthesia but it sure seems like a cool affliction. Ramona balances quickness and gruff vocals with softness and tender vocals. And then you know what they do? Hit you with feelings. I know, it’s kinda fucked up to come out of nowhere like that, right? Get ready for a silly interaction between your heart and your brain. One is going to tell you that it’s just pretty music and it warrants a smile. The other is going to remind you of every break up you’ve ever had and how much it hurts to miss people. You’re going to be hit by the happy cry. It’s gonna be like wearing sunglasses indoors or something goofy. Ramona is the musical equation of being so full of joy that you feel sad. If you want musical comparisons, they sound like Lemuria, Cayetana, and Jawbreaker. You get the drill. But more importantly, they could play every chord a half step out of tune and I would still be a puddle of emotional mess. And it’s over lyrics like: “Somehow when things got bleak I was never feeling hopeless / What have I got to complain about? I was never abandoned.” This six-song EP is incredibly filling, but definitely makes you crave more. It’s as addicting as loving someone is. Somewhere in an alternate universe Kevin Arnold is blasting “These Days” alone in his room thinking about how sad he is that Winnie Cooper had to move away. Sad Brunch fills the gap of loneliness, but with memories of past lovers. Not quite regret, but not quite moving on. It’s a crucial piece to keep in your emotional toolbox. –Kayla Greet (Bomb Pop)