by B. Levinson (@littlest_b_)
For fans of Thin Lizzy, Sheer Mag, Ava Luna, and cold sodas on Midwest blacktops. Summer heat was shuffling and doing its best to bring down the vibe but we weren’t worried, we were high and wanted more. Discount Magic took me through late Summer and into Fall, all the time sure that nothing would end. I guess it was worth staying with because it assured me that many times the best bands get no attention at all. I thought this was so good and yet nothing. I spent the season wondering when I’d see Sweet Baby Jesus dancing on the outlets online and no sign. So I thought, “if we really love bands we ought to hold up the good ones.” So here I am, I wanted attention drawn to them so I guess I can start the drawing.
It begins off-kilter, somewhat unsettled and stays for a moment but lays in quick: anthemic guitar work, yowling sax, and the chords changing on the last eighth of the bar (that classic anticipation and lift). And, my god, the vocals… Who is singing and who teaches one to sing like that? Such strength and wildness, and somehow grace. I suppose one must teach oneself to do so. It enlivens like a mutant. I never know where the pipes might land, but somehow they land and they sell it. All the while, the band like a body, playing organically, flexibly, unsteady, and confident.
It’s all a church song. “Twin Flame” burns lopsided, meticulous in arrangement, never settling except in a pocket of air for the sax, let it ring. Maybe this hollering doesn’t do it, maybe it grates your ear, if that’s the case I can’t help you. It’s aimed at the moon: pastiche and pleasure, soulful measure. Written in italics, it has a helpful thinness and a crunch, flush and consistent, off-white.
Can they keep revealing this forever? It seems so. Just when the act feels it might get stale they bring a new hook or a brighter room. At moments it’s almost as if these songs were written just to lift a band that is low on morale, the songs an ode to the labor of being in a band at all. It’s “midnight music,” They’re “barely rocking.” This is, itself, the “poison of desire.” They’re passing the days away, losing themselves respectively, all the while enmeshing, becoming one. This is a band for a band and what a band can be: a rock and roll epic within the garage, sweet friendship and even clarinet. Truth be told I love it.