the swells

A baseline turns to melody, guitars and keyboards follow suit, soft notes repeat and reverberate until they catch the drum beat and become a veritable wall of sound. Momentum reined in by the steady metronomic beat, the volume and the tension build. Indistinct vocals arise from nowhere, and the entire room is awash in a swirling miasma of sound and more sound -- sound so thick it has no beginning or end; sound so complete that the parts are nearly indistinguishable from one another. Even here, in their rehearsal space, confronted only by one

repeat and reverberate until they catch the drum beat and become a
veritable wall of sound. Momentum reined in by the steady metronomic beat,
the volume and the tension build.

Indistinct vocals arise from nowhere, and the entire room is awash in a
swirling miasma of sound and more sound -- sound so thick it has no beginning
or end; sound so complete that the parts are nearly indistinguishable from
one another. Even here, in their rehearsal space, confronted only by one
another and a lone reporter, the eyes of every member of Austin quintet the
Swells drop and remain fixed, intently, on their own shoes.

Produced by Chris Cline, the product shows the time and effort put into the
recording, a steady mix of moody, emotive, instrumentally oriented
wanderings, and bright, concise pop songs that work together like peanut
butter and jelly. Alone, each has its own undeniable qualities, but together,
they become something far greater.

The result, Yesterday's Songs, lives somewhere between the relative
swagger of Luna and the intensely dreamy tones of Slowdive. The Swells
seem to have hit on a comfy and effective blend of Shoegazer and pop, not
sacrificing the more ethereal elements of long instrumental builds and bashes,
while developing and reveling in the catchy hooks they've found in and
among the sonic flotsam.