Unlock Your Doors

Holy Fuck! Whose punk love children are these people? From whose musical loins did they spring forth? What part of this great land produces such Alt-R promise? Oh! They’re from here, the Pacific Northwest? Well, why then are we not bowing down before the might of their guitars and their tsunami stage presence? I have been asleep. Asleep I tell you! But now I am awake. Wide awake! You, reading this, you need to wake up, too! The Tractorites didn’t want Ravenna Woods to leave the building. The genre-bending Helio Sequence was on deck, the Sub Pop headliner, and the crowd was still buying RW drinks as they stowed their gear and cleared the stage. Expensive drinks! Love was in the air. Real, lasting love, the kind that only guitars played until they blaze can spontaneously generate in the hearts of true believers. It was the long moment, the evangelical tent-show conversion, the first kiss, the burning man burning it all up on his last night in the cool desert air knowing it meant becoming ash by morning, but choosing the flames anyway. I’m not making any of this up. Look at these pictures! I’m a professional! Go on up to Bandcamp, listen, and know what “we” now know. Go, now, and be amazed.