Miracles

Color me massively intrigued. Yesterday, I got in the mail, an immaculately made CD-R from Miracles, a Brooklyn-based group whose MySpace page I chanced upon a week or so back. The trio's music is this agile blend of lackadaisical college rock, New York noise experimentation, and the sharp yet scattered rock of Modest Mouse and the like. It's rejuvenating to listen to and, while pretty loud and sometimes abrasive, winds up being pretty damn digestible. Maybe it's the thick, catchy bass lines, maybe it's the fantastic and ever-changing drumming (bongos one song, mini kit the next, stoner beats the next), maybe it's the infectious, jagged -- yet weirdly innocuous -- synth lines. I dunno. They rock hard.

But like I was saying above ... color me intrigued. I get this package from the band yesterday and it's got these really cool scribbles all over it (like this) -- cool. I open it up and am greeted by an hand-crafted CD-R that features a bizarre picture of a woman carrying brick on her head with the above mentioned zig-zag scribbles. The best part, though, is the note (I hope the band doesn't get angry at my disclosing this): "You have this morning the feel of the feathers of a bird wing. Your fingers on the leather of a bat wing, stretched out. The tiny little teeth or no teeth a beak wild eye rolling around. Thanks Nik. Spread Beauty. Miracles."

Cool, huh? I only mention this because I've come to realize that sometimes it's a group's visual or textual work that illustrates their sound and essence best. I can't do it as a third party -- let their obtuse story telling do the job for me.

Anyway, you ought to pick up something of theirs. It's all fantastic.

Miracles - Hunting Without Heads

Miracles - Pioneers

Miracles - Little Hearts