Widowers | Widowers
Most likely to: star in your whiskey-drunk black-out auditory hallucinations.
When musicians from an avant-garde brainiac band like Constellations put their energy into something more down-in-the-dirt, the result is an album with enough mess and sweat to be human, but it also has the sort of iridescent glow only produced by people who like to play around with weird sounds – like Phosphorescent or any of the other melodic mixtures of the organic with the electronic, of dusty landscapes and glowing skies. Widowers layer water droplets of sound with heavy melodies and whiskey references to create an album that’s sensory and evocative, making the influences people see in them – Led Zeppelin, Ziggy Stardust, ’60s anti-war songs, Wilco, Radiohead, and the list goes on – flicker a little bit differently.
Lead vocalist Mike Marchant sounds like Julian Casablancas, but way, way more earnest – like somebody smacked that jaded smirk off Julian Casablancas’ face and made him go hop trains and live off the land for a year. His voice is heavy and slow, and bounces off the recesses of your head for a while. It’s no wonder that this band is playing the Donnybrook BBQ: a fundraiser for rich people at Larimer Lounge June 8th.
So if you want to go see them tonight, we have free tickets; but you must write us a love letter to Mark Weaver first. I’m not gonna lie, the responses we’ve gotten have been half-assed and a little lame. Come on, people, the man makes rock history on a regular basis. Dig into your soul! Check out Denver’s Most Fuckable for the details.