Prizmo beach for free#
Prizmo beach driver#

There’s Jon Timm, lead singer and lanky fella who sits behind a keyboard Phil Nelson, lead guitarist, aforementioned ginger, and the once-named most beautiful person in the band, or so said his wife, who offered this assessment reluctantly Ethan Pierce, swarthy bassist, swarthier perfectionist, and the Dude who wrote the band’s eponymous song and Bryan, drummer and consummate multi-instrumentalist, whose last name I didn’t really know until about six months or so ago, which makes sense given how Bryan has probably never said his last name out loud, potentially to anyone, in public, and also given how he emanates an aura of complete awe-inspiring aloofness. Only two of the Bleach Blonde Dudes are actually blonde, one being particularly ginger-y as opposed to Aryan-colored, which will prove in the ensuing years to be a social bane to his progeny, of which he recently had one, who, while adorable, is more translucent than not. Because what’s a piece of art if it’s never shared? What’s an opinion if no one ever hears it? Which is why this year Cokemachineglow is demonstrating our love in a way not just different from most sites of our kind, but different from every other year we’ve summarized: what began with removing numerical ratings, and then followed into truncating our list to, has culminated in a simple celebration-a spirit party where we finally stop pretending that we’re some bastion of critical authority, and just admit that we’re a group of friends and/or colleagues who find communicating our experiences with art through writing is a deeply personal blood-letting, a method by which we can hopefully translate those experiences in ways that others can share in the same transcendent participation. The record went largely unnoticed, because these four male humans largely stayed away from drumming up notice, and while pieces of me genuinely wonder if loving these five songs should be chocked up to knowing the band so well-having experienced each of these songs, step-by-step, from conception to draft to performing to recording-I would much rather tell the story of my love for these five songs, however trivial, as an act of embracing the idea that such closeness, such intimacy, with any kind of music isn’t born, D’Angelo-ready, to be declared classic upon two or three listens, but stems from countless experiences, from interactions with people we love, watching people we love open themselves up to whatever it is that allows them to express veiled urges, or pain, or joy, or whatever.

Prizmo beach for free#

In 2014 they finally self-recorded and self-released their debut, for free (except if you want to buy an actual cassette tape). It also means that everyone kind of sounds like everyone else.Įxcept here are the Dudes, who sound more like themselves than anything, more like Everything at once instead of Everyone for a short period of time. Which to me means that the music I like is created by people I also like, and that if I wanted to erect illusory barriers in order to guarantee that my critical voice stay unclouded, I’d probably be a hermit. Yet, like any saturated music scene, Portland’s is one of underrepresented genres (representative of totally underrepresented communities), incestuous collaboration, and shameless self-promotion, but also: insane talent, an unbridled DIY-ethos, and a regional chauvinism that actually adds value, distinguishing it from other new-music enclaves like Brooklyn or Austin, because Portland is viciously defensive of what it deems worthwhile in its community, which is often homegrown and home-nurtured apart from a national stage-this, in direct contrast to the aforementioned loci, which feel like black holes for nomadic bands seeking someone, anyone, to pay attention.

Prizmo beach driver#

I know these people personally, and so writing about their debut EP, Prismo Beach Tape, is a matter of finally accepting that all authority I must feign in order to leave the house each morning and tell the bus driver that I’m a music critic is, inevitably, a straw man I set up between the person I am who creates and the person I am who consumes. Bleach Blonde Dudes are four male humans who make and play music together in Portland, Oregon.