We wanna send you to see The Growlers!
Each new record from The Growlers has something gripping enough that makes it as exciting as a debut. We’ve been seeing The Growlers for a while now, and we know all their tricks: bashful love songs softly cradled by opiate-euphoria, kick-shit pub songs aggravated by rum and amphetamines, and, of course, how genuinely they’ve always related to the everyday man when the going gets tough. Now, they’ve decided they’re going to do what they want to do. They’re going to stay out and drink for however long they want. They’re going to pick up new moods and scents even if you don’t like them. They’re going to flirt with something new if it fancies them, and they’re going to turn up their fuzz and synthesizers however fucking loudly they want.
You knew this when they came through the door a few weeks ago with “City Club” and realized who they’ve been hanging out with. Julian Casablancas of The Strokes produced the new album for the boys and have helped them out with a new, slick, New York–esque style. Sounds off this record spawn in the hours of the late night, and there is a more cock-out attitude, distant from what we’ve been used to since our affair began with The Growlers.
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