Videos

Shhhhhh! SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Onry Ozzborn's "duofilm" just started. Sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up so we can fucking watch this. Pass the red vines tho, I need to throw them away to make room for the twizzlers, because red vines are fucking vile.  I fucking love Onry Ozzborn more than most of you assholes tho, just remember that. 

The best thing about Me Like Bees, besides their sensual candor, explicitly erotic bedside manner, and rapidly shrinking refractory period, is that their music sounds like it's fucking sunny outside.  Like, right now, it's snowing sideways with windgusts over 30mph (or in kilometers, it's fuck you be American), but with this "Tundraland" video playing on my computer, it's fucking 74 (FARENHEIT YOU FOREIGN MOTHERFUCKER) and sunny and I don't have to work and I'm wearing clean underwear. That's like, the opposite of reality, but fuck, I LOVE ME SOME ME LIKE BEES! Also, since I AM a beekeeper, I like Me Like Bees because me actually like bees.  While the video does have much to be desired when it comes to CGI, I am pretty impressed with the short shorts on mustache dog pound man AND...

I love it when I'm not expecting anything and I come away from the unexpected surprise with surprises I wasn't expecting, and all of these vending machine snacks. I clicked play on Migrant Kids's's's's video for "Thread" and I briefly walk away to snag a snackwells and I come back and the whole world is pretty and poppy and poppy and pretty and all of a sudden I'm in love with a wonderful guy.  Just imagine watching reality television and petting that dude's beard for a second with me, will you? If conditioned properly that shit would feel like a bear skin rug but with amazing taste in cowhide and Fender Stratocasters. I'm fucking smitten with this band now bros.  Migrant Kids have motherfucking plucky and picky reverb'd guitar licks aplenty, and the incessantly pleasant th-...

The first time I heard this band I kept thinking it was like Evanescence without the distortion.  The second time I heard this band I kept thinking it was like Evanescence without the distortion. The third time I heard this band I fucking loved that it sounded like Evanescence without that pesky distortion. It's like half way between the twee-screamo-pop and that electro future-rnb spot on the genre map, but with the long hair AND a shaved head, AT THE SAME TIME!  PVRIS, (which I'm not completely sure how to pronounce it, as it's either PARIS like the city or PERVIS, which is like a perverted Beavis. I'm cool with either.) has me shout-singing in slow motion to myself in the mirror and I don't want this fucking song to end. Such a fucking anthemic pop track, but at the same time it's...

Maaaaan, I fucking HATE "acoustic" sessions. Fuck your coffee mug with the mustache on it that makes it look like you have a mustache every time you takes a sips. Fuck your knit hat you wear yearfuckinground. Fuck your worn out courds. Fuck your Docs, fuck your velcro wallet, fuck your shitty choice of caffeinated beverage.  AH SHIT I'M LOOKING IN THE MIRROR! So fuck ME! I admit to hating the kitsch factor of acoustic sessions, but I apprecaite them in some capacity because they seem to weed out those bands that suck ALL OF THE BUTTS because it's just fucking raw balls or OMG EW! STOP PLAYING MUSICS! Some bands are fucking made by stripping away the effects, and some are exposed as posers with really obvious health issues (like being an asshole, we can hear that on acoustic guitars bro)....

I don't really know much about Lucy & La Mer, only that they pale as fuk and gots mad strumz and ukes n shit. (Read that aloud just to feel cooler guys, cmon.) But jesus triscuits on a salami platter fashioned out of recycled car parts and apple mini bubble screens, the sound is galdarn amazing. Having that much patience in your ability to make music on acoustic instruments takes years and years of experience, and when delievered this gently, no matter how quiet, it sounds huuuuuuuge. But, I won't lie, what caught my attention about this video was the message behind the video. Since we run a music site that only talks about the music we love, and we don't actively attend many shows because we have children and jobs and shit, and we don't gig that often (if we are still chasing the...

I love how this immediately sounds like a smooshwich of The 1975 and A Silent Film, but with looser fitting pants and a wardrobe consisting of more than black and white V-necks.  Venus Demilo are a complete unknown for me, but the post rock distortion over the chorus that doesn't seem to smother the gentle insertions of the vocal on the verse is completely fucking appreciated. I love dainty poppy guitars like anyone else who isn't afraid of letting down his machismo, but that distorted grit is polished in such a way that it almost seems to intensify how fucking pleasant this whole song is. One trait of "Sophia" that most might not pick up on right away is how incredibly brief the song feels. At just under three minutes, it forces me listen to the song twice, at a minimum, each...

I'm pretty sure this is Sasha from Sasha & Digweed, but I almost don't want to move my body enough to confirm that that's who it might be. This shit is too fucking perfect a complement to my earlier ramblings about wanting to rollerskate down a hill without pants. This is the fucking apertif to that four course meal.  "View2" is the downtempo back massage I didn't know I had in me today.  Normally, whenever I'm in the mood to hear something this relatively relaxing I'm half way towards intoxication. Yet there's something about this particular track, at this very second, that makes me want to enjoy the sobriety and the clarity, and stare down the temptations to somehow skew my current mood towards one might consider buzzed. Sasha, whichever Sasha you are, this track is so...

WHEN A SONG STARTS WITH A RIFF COCK THIS HARD, IT'S VERY DIFFICULT TO CONSIDER ANYTHING ELSE IN LIFE AS ERECTIFYING AS THIS RIFF COCK IS RIGHT AT THIS VERY SECOND. Jesus balls on 1983 Saab wagon with tan leather seats faded and cracked from sun exposure after sitting in the extended stay lots at the Phoenix Airport this picking hand is on FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRE! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! I can't imagine having the chops to play this song without my smile fucking exploding all over my face and distracting me from the complexities that are White Denim riff cocks. "Ha Ha Ha Ha (Yeah)" is the fucking Monday morning that makes a motherfucker want to CAUCUS! YEAAAAAAAAAA! There's nothing I can type that will make this song any more fucking appreciated, so let me just shimmy the fuck back away...

Blisses B is one of the few bands I can remember keeping an active relationship with over the last six years of SYFFALing. While I've been completely honest with them about which of their tunes I want to erotically and slow motion break windows to, and which ones make me afraid for our future on earf, they don't take my tastes to heart and we can openly communicate about what makes us move like good ol' bros.  It's almost like we're part of a fucking community of music lovers or some shit. It's like San Francisco, but on the internet. If you're from San Francisco, which I am not, (although I pay similar taxes in Kendall County, Illinois) you might be noticing that all the venues are closing. Whether it's because people can't make a living in a rock and roll movie anymore, or white people...