PAWS

I missed out on 90's indie-rock.  I listened to Erasure and Weird Al.  By the time I was in high school I was following DMB.  Last April, I hit 30 square on the nose.  Thankfully my music tastes have grown beyond a casual music listener or pedestrian CD buyer.  My wife said before our son was born (almost two years ago), I was listening to some strange stuff.  She claims it was my obsession with David Eugene Edwards (Wovenhand) that led me digging close to drone/metal, slowing came back to LOW...only to retreat knee deep in drone-y, noisy, aggressive blasts from Keith Fullerton Whitman, Boris, La Monte Young, OM, and Glenn Branca.  I joke this was my transition from boy to fatherhood, but this transitional period (musically) was far more defining than I knew at the time.  Having a kid is a doozy too. 

The fact is, once I came back to populist indie I was so bored.  I found myself reaching for more Jóhann Jóhannsson or hitting repeat on Mark Hollis' solo.  I didn't want to spend time listening to boys in their parent's garages or drop cash on high-fructose pop songs.  I got picky.  Just because an album was released from Matador didn't mean I had to like it.

In fact, the more new indie albums I listened to, the older I felt.  Was this linked with being a dad or no longer being in my twenties?  Maybe, but I tend to think too many bands started popping up and the whole idea of 'indie-rock' kinda died.  I mean, how many groups actually record on lo-fi because they can't afford the upgrade?  Or, how many times must I wonder "why is their song on a commercial for tacos/burger/phones/cars/etc.?"  Don't get me wrong, I love that indie started to appeal to a larger audience (I was part of that population shift), but looking back as early as 2007, it started to wear me out. 

Lately, I've found some curiosity again.  I'm intrigued with the 'retro' buzz.  For someone who missed out on 90's indie rock, I find 90's revisitism surprisingly nostalgic.  Even if I was singing and dancing to "Amish Paradise", I still remember the boys and girls before me who spaced out to Nirvana, wore flannel, and owned a skateboard. 


                            PAWS Cokefloats!
                                FatCat Records

I didn't, however, grow up skateboarding or possess the same level of angst these kiddos did.  And from the sound of it, the boys from PAWS as well.  These dudes are immersed in writing youthful, pissed off (sometimes humorous), blunt songs about girls, parents, lack of money, and crappy circumstances.  As an adult, I appreciate the energy and emotion, but my owning a home, being a dad, and husband won't let me fully buy in.  I'm just not that angry or reckless.  My biggest halt with Cokefloats! isn't so much that I don't like it (because I do).  I think it accomplishes what it set out to do (spit out songs about sad affairs in order to come to a cathartic hurray! + playing music is rad), but I was never where the lyrics emotionally reside.  My biggest concern as a teen was getting a good grade on my AP History final.  In college, I sipped micro brews, listened to jazz, and avoided nasty relationships with girls.  Now, I have a mortgage!  My frame of reference going into Cokefloats! is certainly to blame!  But that's not to say I wasn't taken by the raw, gut level prognosis of 'Catherine 1956' or aggressive screams and push on 'Winner's Don't Bleed'.  'Tulip' is a fine treat of crunchy guitars, punky snarl, and bounce, but 'Sore Tummy' finds PAWS at its best both vocally and musically.  The song begins with a super catchy guitar riff, followed by a hearty bass line and quick paced drums that avoid sounding busy.  The pulled back approach, focus on dynamics, and subtle balance makes plenty of room for the singer's grainy musings.

Even if I don't typically reach for an album from a young punk trio these days, Cokefloats! is a kick to the chest and buzz to the head.  I just wish I was capable of slurping down more.

PAWS