First off, Chasny’s mustache is 70s porn star awesome. If he had a paunch belly and was a fame whore, he’d potentially be the Ron Jeremy of new weird genres of his choice. I’m sure somewhere he has that scribbled in a diary. Quinn, on the other hand, seems resolute, steeled to make music with a friend and to ground the duo’s facial hair aesthetic by appearing mostly clean shaven. When they flipped the coin to decide who got to grow the ‘stache, Quinn was well aware that his baby face would likely be a just outcome.
But this is more than facial hair, this is about Chasny adding yet another friend to the backyard plastic pool to play games and swim laps. As New Bums, the guitar twosome display a different set of chops beyond the follicle. This is a duo more concerned with stripped down rock, the sort of psych-pop hybrids that meld with early blood brothers Jim and Will Reid. There’s a bare soulfulness to the simple melodies and effortless doodles of Quinn and Chasny, no surprise to fans of either (or both). Something that seems so mundane — a newly minted friendship — can seem so fragile in the light of day, especially with the sadder timbre of Slim Volume. But New Bums seem rock hard with a full-length and a tour on the horizon. So consider this a baby picture, when the lads had quaint expressions before the ZZ Top beards and Eliminators began piling up. Facial hair and guitar chops is straight cash money.
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