Whatever Brains - Old

They honor both the Urinals and Johnny Cash with a healthy amount of disrespect. They embrace melody with the same back-clapping hug that they save for tape-deck distortion. Their band name sounds like the sort of thing you'd hear a slack-mofo'n zombie mutter while shambling after some potential appetizers. All said, that Whatever Brains can consider themselves kissing cousins with one of the most respected and venerated indie-rock institutions still working today shouldn't come as a surprise.  Nor should it be any sort of shock that Matador Records wanted to distribute their "Mt. Whatever" / "Summer Jammin'" single—both of those A-sides (the former, snotty & raucous; the latter, drunk & woozy) offer the sort of awkward pop charms that, from Pavement to the late Jay Reatard, gave the label its well-deserved reputation.  

And, of course, given the lineage that Whatever Brains claims as their own, those two-minute bundles of joy were nestled inside the folks of their Soft Dick City full-length—on cassette tape, of course—like $50 bills that slipped between the couch cushions.  That's not to devalue the other songs on the tape—if you can stomach a wavering fealty to high fidelity, Soft Dick City (and the other Brains offerings, of which there's a new 7" on the way) provides listeners multiple examples that the group's not just a one-trick pony.  At the rate they're going, Whatever Brains might find themselves with a frothing fanbase willing to jump through all sorts of hoops to get their fix. —David Raposa