Adios Esposito

Naming your band after a line from Wes Anderson's 1998 cult masterpiece Rushmore is a dicey proposition. What happens if your music totally sucks shit? You're gonna have a pack of rabid, vengeful Max Fischer apostles out to pop a cap in your ass. Luckily for the three members of Adios Esposito, this nine-song demo is a raw, real and compelling introduction to the group's melodic and vaguely experimental indie rock. "Weird" enters this world spewing a clutch of discordant, clangy arpeggios overlaid by crooning vocals that thankfully reach the end of their leash about an inch and a half away from total pretension. "Firefly," on the other hand, creeps along with a gulping pulse awash in grainy textures and brain-cleansing atmosphere. The rest of the disc follows suit, vacillating between serrated rock and noodly ambience like some ham-fisted mash-up of the Walkmen and the Police. One of the disc's big assets is the stark production, an edgy and hiss-sharpened sound that keeps the trio's more frilly tendencies grounded in a cake of grit. The minute singer Kevin Johnston decides to settle down and become Thom Yorke, Swervedriver's Adam Franklin or simply himself, Adios Esposito might take that leap from moderately inspired to downright great. Until then, tag 'em and bag 'em, cherries. We're moving out.


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