Y’all, we are a mere few days away from a holy weekend at Auditorium Shores, which means you should be getting very excited for Fun Fun Fun Fest 2015. Today’s preview features a staple of the lo-fi jangle scene, and surely a band that will make your festival a bit brighter: Parquet Courts. After a few albums, years of building up a live show reputation, and even alternate universe versions of their band (see Parkay Quarts), the band has brought a punk flair to the lo-fi scene, and we love them for it. Take a listen to an older single from the band below, reminisce and get stoked to see them at the fest. Catch them on the Black Stage on Friday at 3:45 or at The Parish at 11:30 on Sunday.
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If it wasn’t obvious, Parkay Quarts is the slightly twisted version of Parquet Courts, the contrarily art-punk band that put out Sunbathing Animal earlier this year and has been bringing their flair to the genre for the past few years. With this altered moniker, two of the members of this band are on their second venture for this year in Content Nausea which ventures further down the trail and upon a bit of a pedestal.
The opening track of this record is “Everyday it Starts,” and it has the band beginning with their adventure into the land of pathos. From the beginning, the band’s central focus seems to be a balance between eclectic instrumentation and the rambling lyrics that ascribes what it means to be living in the present day. The instrumentation on this number is steady—the drums patter in the background while the guitars and bass both alternate to create a rhythm akin to a clock ticking. While this goes on and is interrupted by random electronic sounds, the vocals chime in, deadpan, telling you “every day it starts: anxiety.” The song is a mimetic of the anxiety itself, with us embodying the soloing electric guitar meandering through the ticking waves of anxiety. Second number, title track, changes the pacing from constant to constantly shifting as the deadpan vocals ramble in a sort shot at spoken word set to the intentionally out of control instrumentation.
But it’s not all philosophical ramblings that should pull you into Content Nausea. I’ve found myself intrigued with some of the later tracks on a purely base level; there are some straight up jams on this record that are worth your time. Take “Pretty Machines” as an example—the song has this killer guitar riff that weaves its way in and out of the tune, and the song itself builds to its end with what sounds like lo-fi horns to end the number. This song, of course, doesn’t stray far from those relevant lyrics from before: “These days it’s harder to feel, it’s harder to suffer.” There’s also a lovely cover of “These Boots,” which makes it apparent as to the attractiveness of Parkay Quarts sound on this record. This track meshes perfectly with the campy, pulled together style of the band.
Content Nausea is certainly something different than you usually run into in the sphere of the music world, but it seems an apt statement piece in which form compliments content, which is reflective of the world we’re living in. While it gets a little preachy at points, have a listen and see if it aligns with where you’re at.