Victorian Halls
Springsteen (Self-Released)
Blue and pink pills falling out of the sky, owls hanging out above clouds, and burning buildings smoldering on the backs of a pig... all imagery that screams chaos and slight psychosis. Not too unlike Victorian Halls.
Vocally, Victorian Halls are like the Beastie Boys mixed with a cracked out Blood Brothers. Musically, they are a little harder to define. They are an obscure blend of noise, pounding piano keys, erratic basslines, and indiscriminate song structures. To the right listener, Victorian Halls are charming in the way that a discombobulated stuffed animal or ugly runt mutt dog might be. They're so unique in their frenzy that, for a select few, the noise is worthwhile and bordering on genius. But I do know, through similar experience with the ever great Neon Blonde, that 99.9% of humanity
will find the vocals and music of Victorian Halls absolutely intolerable. But those who love it will love the hell out of it. (And on a side note: check out the lyrics... they are surprisingly well-played.)
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