Duke Evers

The first time I hit play on Seaside from Duke Evers, I assumed I was hearing yet another incarnation of some adorably/annoyingly folky Monsters & Men meets the Lumineers clones that have plagued our email inboxes since PR reps thought they were going to break the "next" M&M or Lumineeeez bro. While it isn't as constant as it was a few years ago, holy Fuck balls on a ball of Fuck that is holy, EVERY REP THOUGHT THEIR VERSION OF THE SAME DAMN THING WAS BETTER THAN EVERYONE ELSE'S VERSION OF THE SAME DAMN THING.

Duke Evers might have fooled me into thinking I was hearing a band cling to that kitsch that isn't just starting to bother me, it's starting to fucking infuriate me, but dude?

DUDE. AM I DRUNK OR IS THIS BALLS ASS AWESOME?!?!?!?!?!

Pretty sure I'm sober as I've ever been, and I fucking adore the shit out of this song. Any time you put a galloping snare under a song this flighty I'm sure to, at the very least, pay attention, but you throw in a WHOAAA OH OHHHH in that bitch? shit, I ain't evens knows whens I tooks offs these pants bros.

I'M WHIPPING MY PANTS ABOVE MY HEAD LIKE A HELICOPTER AND I AIN'TS EVENS INS EITHER OF THE CAROLINAS BROS.

Whoever the Fuck Duke Evers is, and I can see from using my eye holes there's only two guys in the band, they're fucking phenomz. I'd like to roll them into a joint, gently lick thems along their sides, and then suckle their heady aroma into my lungs as I traipse into the ether that is STONED AS HELL NAW BRAH!

Please join me in fondling this band asap.