The Holy

I don't know who slipped me The Holy's More Escher And Random Notes EP.

Whoever you are though, thank you.

The Holy has been my go to ride to work music for the last three weeks, but more importantly, The Holy has been my go to sit and stare at the clouds float by while my wife and I share stouts on our patio music. 

What instantly feels like music that would play at your funeral or in a biopic written about your life thus far, The Holy have completely fucking captivated me in a way I haven't felt in a very long fucking time. The Holy are a tossed salad of Foals, Arcade Fire, The National, and that little part of U2 that makes you want to hold a record to your chest and rock back and forth.

Immediately sentimental, but in a way that lends itself to memories about nothing in particular. Like watching a friend laugh, or a complete stranger wave when you let them cross the street in front of you while traffic backs up at your 6, or tossing the empty roll of toilet paper in the recycle bin from across the kitchen and it flitters end over end over end with a satisfying thwish; The Holy have been my soundtrack to simply choosing to love my life.

Forget about the police killing our friends, the orange skinned people running for president, the property taxes shoving its entire fucking concrete fist up my taut puckered asshole; The Holy are on and I'm choosing this moment to be the exception to bullshit.

The Holy make me want to set the example for just being completely fucking happy in the moment. 

With only five songs to sample from, More Escher And Random Notes is all of a sudden important after just the first listen. I swear, the first time through I had no idea how I had lived 36 years without a favorite band that was this impossible to google. 

When "Can't Remember Your Name" first found its way into my ears I can recall telling myself to be still. I knew without question that I was going to love a band with this much fucking patience. To allow a song to build so intimately, while feeling so raw, but so fucking full, FUCK, my heart was already pissing out of my eye holes before the thump of the toms came in with a thunder. 

The evil and distorted layering under the vocal made it hard to swallow, hard to blink without one of my contacts becoming dislodged, hard to speak to let my wife beside me know what this music was doing to me. 

The Holy made me a complete fucking puddle. 

I was left to melt on the sidewalk as my children jumped over the pile of daddy that couldn't comprehend how music so fucking gorgeous hadn't already been heard before. The guitar fucking shimmering, the low end fucking rumbling, that haunting fucking vocal layer, jesus balls on a honeybutter buttered biscuit on my buddy Bernie's fucking bicep, I'm in love and the song isn't even over. 

But then "Airport For Lovers" comes in like a late 90s Traveling Wilburys lead in, and my face is scrunched from all the rock n roll I'm rock n rolling, and there's no way this song can be better than the first track. Then the guitar lick settles in slowing the crunch, but setting the tone even further, and I can do nothing but shove my fingers in my mouth hoping the vocal is perfect.

AND THEN THE VOCAL IS PERFECT AND I'M SOBBING BECAUSE PERFECT MUSIC DOESN'T JUST COME ALONG VERY OFTEN ANYMORE. 

How does this band exist? WHY DID THEY NOT EXIST THIS WHOLE TIME?!??!

"Ramses The Evil Brother" is galloping hooves in slow motion, a persistent reverby hold on the guitar that makes me want to listen to The Hero Factor, and a synth riff that makes me want to just fucking succeed. I don't even know how else to describe how this song energizes me up without it sounding like I'm describing a classic hard rock song.

Fuck off. Put this on and assume you don't look like a jagbag for snapping with both hands bro.

"Delta Wave" almost reminds me of a Bruce Springsteen anthem without sounding super fucking denim and cheap cigarettes and that wine you put ice cubes in. But the backing vocals leading into the chorus make me wish I had a tambourine to smack against my fucking thigh just to prove how fucking hip I am.

"This Will Be The Day That I Die" is perhaps the perfect way to end an EP from your new favorite band. Picture this bro: I'm wearing cut off jean shorts, because I'm extremely popular in my demographic. I'm playing air drums, but it's those free standing imaginary air drums on their own stands that are covered in the skins of animals long extinct and emblazoned with the sigil of triumphant and victorious victors in battle that bathed in the blood of their enemies and used scalps as loofas. 

When you realize that everyone on the road is looking at you, which could have something to do with the fact that you're playing air drums (with the aforementioned skins and sigils bro) with your eyes closed, while driving, well, THAT MEANS IT'S WORKING!

I've already said too much, but I'll end with one final statement: I haven't been this in love with a band so quickly since the first time I heard Airborne Toxic Event's All At Once album. And I fucking LOVED that album more than I love 33% of my children at the moment. 

WHAT?

JUST GO BUY THIS.

*please release this on vinyl*