Analog Giant: More NW music, Band of Horses.

[ Written by K | 5:35 AM | Thursday, March 23 | 1 interested person(s) ]

I featured some Seattle hip-hop yesterday and today I would like to feature another Pacific Northwest group called Band of Horses. They have been getting alot of buzz in the blogalaxy. Kev from So Much Silence has highlighted their new single "Funeral" and some are calling the song this years "Tunnels."

Band of Horses are on the esteemed Sub Pop records, famous for signing Nirvana and Soundgarden and being a big part in launching the grunge scene. Sub pop is 49% owned by Time Warner music group. The label bosts some of the biggest in the indie scene right now Iron and Wine, Wolf Parade, Sleater-Kinney, The Shins, Sunny Day Real Estate, Postal Service, and Rogue Wave.

Band of Horses was "formed in Seattle after too much bullshit" according to the band's website.

From Band of Horses myspace:

"Achieving musical transcendence is a tricky feat, almost definitively. If it happens at all, it happens naturally — and perhaps nobody knows that better than Seattle, Washington’s Band of Horses. Guitarist/vocalist Ben Bridwell and guitarist Mat Brooke formed Band of Horses in 2004, after the dissolution of their nearly ten-year run in northwest melancholic darlings Carissa’s Wierd. Carissa’s Wierd trafficked in sadly beautiful orchestral pop, whose songs told unflinching stories of heartbreak and loss, leavened with defeatist humor. And, Band of Horses rises from the ashes of that well-loved band. After playing music with each other for over a decade, Bridwell and Brooke picked up together again when Bridwell began fleshing out his compositions post-Carissa’s. “It was really just a natural thing we started doing,” explains Bridwell. Buoyed by Bridwell’s warm, reverb-heavy vocals (which strangely channel a dichotomous blend of Wayne Coyne, Brian Wilson and Doug Martsch,) Band of Horses’ woodsy, dreamy songs ooze with amorphous tension, longing and hope. At times raggedly epic (“The Great Salt Lake”) and delicately pensive (“St. Augustine,” “Monsters”), Everything All the Time is an album painted gorgeously in fragile highs and lows."