Sugarland

While growing up reading Spin and Rolling Stone, I quickly realized that both publications are fond of describing the sound of new bands by referencing older bands, many of which my twelve-year-old self hadn’t heard. I used to hate it, but now I realize it’s a pretty effective if lazy way of doing things. This is why I can say that Talk Normal would be the resulting lovechild if Sonic Youth and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs had really sweaty, kinky, drug-fueled sex, which is to say it’d be a very frightening, emotional lovechild, fond of howling, screaming, and talking nonsensically into a microphone over sonic noise.

It seems that Rare Book Room Records has made it their goal to sign the creepiest, noisiest, and most difficult to characterize bands to come out of Brooklyn. These bands, much like Talk Normal, make records that you’d be afraid to listen to by yourself, as they may bring on a nasty drug flashback or elicit some pretty strange daydreams.

To be honest, I don’t even know if I liked Talk Normal’s Sugarland. I can’t ever picture myself saying, “Hey, let’s throw on that incredibly moody, emotional, energy-draining album that scares the shit out of me.” Which is not to say it’s bad; it’s just too different. When I want to be sad, I throw on something sad. When I want to be happy, I throw on something happy. Sadly, a mood has yet to be discovered that would result in me throwing on Talk Normal’s record. Maybe with a little more time spent practicing together and a little less distortion and howling, Talk Normal’s next record can illicit some more human emotion—as opposed to pure animal savagery.

•