buckfever underground

Wrap your tongue around Buckfever Underground. They're a departure from the norm.

Just when you thought poetry was dead, here comes Toast to read you his writes. There's something achingly soothing in an even voice telling tempered tales of the imbalance in things. he could even tell the whole truth with that voice, and probably escape execution. A lot of what he says is simply profound. And grounded. And funny. And poignant.

But it's even better that it's fitted out with tightly tailored bass and drums that are practically married to each other and a careful lad coaxing all manner of moans and humms out of his electric mother. The moods shift. The landscapes shift. Images flash. Fade. It's an audio-visual journey across the country. (the bassist also runs the city's coolest live music venue , so is it any wonder it's called the armchair theatre? the trajectory is tangible. the timeline, not)

Ten years strong and still looking into the looking glass to find out what's behind music's smile, they've found their freedom in sound and it sounds something like i'd imagine a stretch of the karoo in full, blushing bloom after a gushing downpour to sound....if flowers could sing...