Kissing Party

There are tons of local bands that claim indie rock, yet most don't have a trace of the quirkiness and urgency that once made indie a haven for the lonely, the wimpy and the pissed off. But even among this city's douchebags and fashion victims, there's still a place for...

By Jason Heller

September 17, 2009

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There are tons of local bands that claim indie rock, yet most don't have a trace of the quirkiness and urgency that once made indie a haven for the lonely, the wimpy and the pissed off. But even among this city's douchebags and fashion victims, there's still a place for purity. Enter Kissing Party's The Hate Album. A refinement of the group's sweet, sharp sound, the disc smuggles razor-blade sentiments inside candy-apple melodies such as the awesomely titled "This Disgusting Morning," on which singer Deirdre Sage chirps, "It's so, so cold/It's so fucking cold out" while the band does its zestiest approximation of My Bloody Valentine's pre-shoegaze jangle. It's official, Denver: You now have three months to produce a better indie-rock album of 2009. Good luck with that.

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