Boo and Boo Too
Boo and Boo Too
Ironpaw
By Jose Fritz
I was free-writing, trying to describe this EP and when attempting to pound out the word “songwriting” on my old Underwood I managed to flub the keys, creating the homophone “songwrithing.” I stopped right that instant. Their songs were writhing. My work was done. Hemmingway’s greatness supposedly came from his density, his ability to describe and convey without flowery verbiage. I converted a bands career into a sniglet. I win.
It’s nice to see a band rise from Midwestern obscurity with no interest in the prevailing direction of indie rock. Culture pushes the average scensters like weeds in the wind. Boo and Boo Too resist this force, as they hail from Lawrence, Kansas and they don’t seem to give two shits about the cover of Spin. Hooray for that.
They rock like they’ve spent the last five years trapped in a van on tour with Pavement, My Bloody Valentine and Sonic Youth. They squelch and squall guitar feedback like it was a fourth, unnamed member whose sole purpose was to remind everyone what indie rock used to be like., and on that count they deliver. After a few years of prissy shoegazing, psych-pop bands, one can forget how great it is just to let the little feedback screech for a moment and watch the kids in the front row wince in real-time binaural pain.
Amps are supposed to hum, mics are supposed to pop and distort when the singer screams, quarter inch plugs should buzz when you plug them in and yes most certainly yes, guitars feedback as the tightly wound copper coils in the pickups get close to the speaker cones behind the grilles of the speaker cabinets. This is the righteousness of real rock n’ roll when applied to real and its here in full force.
Within that beautiful work epic of truth they manage to polish their songwrithing into something catchy and memorable instead of just intimidating and raw. But the EP is ultimately too short. It’s good but it does not totally satisfy, so get back in the studio and bring me a fucking record.
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