The Velvet Teen
The Velvet Teen They say the first thing to go is your memory, and The Velvet Teen has been in a constant state of amnesia since day one. From the dazzling pop of Plus Minus Equals, to the soaring, harmony-drenched ballads and one-two uppercut rock punches of Out Of The Fierce Parade, and throughout the masterfully incisive psychemotional beauty of Elysium, The Velvet Teen has always forgotten what came before, painting new, self-rooted masterpieces with each fresh step. Something has been brewing with The Velvet Teen. Something is always brewing, but this time its circuitous. Computers have been freezing up; home electronics have been breaking down. Pinball machines give fashion advice and snarling dogs sing lullabies. The prodigal guitar has returned, and in the meantime, it fell in with the wrong crowd. The Velvet Teen hits a stage like a lightning bolt, electrifying everything in its immediately charged vicinity, sending its own reversed ions back into the skies. Judah Nagler contorts himself through a hypnotic litany of rage and love, accosting both crowd and self with a wild, lilting venom. Casey Deitz erupts behind his drums, the frantic beat-making machine, thrusting the songs to hitherto unimagined planes on a full tank of unleaded insanity. Josh Staples, the tethering anchor for a zealous upward spiraling, stands formidably behind his bass as a compensating vestige of worldliness, somehow keeping it all grounded. This comes as no surprise for a band famous not only for consistently beautiful songwriting but for habitually teetering on the brink. Now, like a fast-approaching howl from some otherworldly womb of creation, comes whatThe Velvet Teens legions of fans have come to expect: something without any frame of reference, without any echoes to the past. The bygone equations of parading through fields of serenity are over, and the circumstantial pomp of graduation is upon us, Cum Laude.