The Post Office Gals
Esbeohdes
6.7
Combine grind, pop synth stylings, shouted, incomprehensible vocals, and a frenetic ambience not unlike a circus and you just might find yourself in The Post Office Gals' territory.
10 songs. Almost 13 minutes. Almost. Unless my iTunes is fucked. Funny enough, that was my initial thought when I started listening to Esbeohdes. Trust me when I say this is some truly weird shit. When I listen to a CD, I sometimes picture the band performing the music live, and what I am picturing here is a crazed vocalist choking himself with his tie as the rest of the band stares wildly at the ground playing their instruments with not only a reckless abandon but a look of demonic possession as well. The funny thing is that it’s almost charming. There’s a weird kind of groove, like a grind version of Horse the Band. And with song titles like, “The Bitter Irony of the Miss Teen New Jersey Pageant” and “So Many Issues of Teen People So Little Time to Masturbate,” the band oozes so much personality that I can only assume it takes a certain breed of human to digest all of it at once.
Because it’s so frenetic and short, songs will initially blend one into the other, but after the first listen one begins to notice specific nuances that act as fairly clear divisions, mostly in the form of strange little riffs and bouncy, space-like keys. If you’re not normally a fan of grind, song structures might seem almost nonexistent, but there are enough alternative elements present that you might find yourself finding a groove somewhere along this brief recording. Strangely enough, even with all the weird things going on instrumentally, the element of the recording that most people will find bothersome is the vocals, which, admittedly, can get irritating, but I suppose that’s why Esbeohdes is only 13 minutes long.
