s/t (Drag City)
I’m gonna use a cooking analogy to describe Sic Alps—an egg analogy in particular: Sic Alps are like cooking scrambled eggs. Bear with me here. It’s like when you’re making an omelet. You beat your eggs real good and then you pour them into a well-buttered pan and you leave them alone for a bit so they can cook up real nice and fluffy, but then at the last minute you throw a spatula in there and just mix them eggs all up. Now you got scrambled eggs and not an omelet. Still tastes good, but it’s different. Just as delicious, but maybe those eggs don’t look so prim and proper now.
Sic Alps have been cooking scrambled eggs for awhile now and (in case the first paragraph sailed right over your hairnet) by "scrambled eggs" I mean slightly disjointed indie pop music. Some of the ingredients the Alps use would be recognizable even to the most entry-level prep cook. The Beatles are thrown in on more than one occasion ("Rock Races" for example) and the Velvet Underground are certainly essential to the recipe ("Thylacine Man"). Also part of a balanced breakfast is the endearing acoustic track, "Lazy Sons" (which sums up the role of sons everywhere); the rockiness of “God Bless Her, I Miss Her”; the jaunty joy of “Moviehead” and see if “See You on the Slopes” won't have you crying into your flapjacks. Serve hot and enjoy!—Chef Willy [Sic Alps]
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