Sing yr strings out

I generally have a problem with people saying inanimate objects sing. Wrong instrument, you know? And I think that's what makes it so hard for me to really appreciate post-rock. All those major breaks of suspended chorale resonate with me the same way the WNBA does. Know your role.

There's something different about Fang Island, though. Maybe it's that they actually have vocals every once in a while—but most of their songs don't. A big part of it is probably that their songs are not nearly as drawn-out or doggedly ethereal as actual post-rock bands. Fang Island play songs that sound like Andrew W.K. covering Animal Collective—arresting pop with great haste and intensity. It's just, they do most of it with their instruments, and when they do sing, it's usually in the form of group chants that drag along their guitars.

Their record, this year's self-titled debut, can drag on at times, and sometimes it lacks in fruitful ideas. But last night at the Memorial Union Terrace, their set was packed with jams, and stayed fresh—likely due to sheer force of will. They were loud, and they were awesome. For the last song of their set, they covered Mariah Carey's "Always Be My Baby." Maybe it's because so much of my youth was spent watching music videos on MTV, or maybe because it was such a perfectly executed dichotomy of an impossibly heavy band playing such a soft, breezy song; but one way or another it gave me overwhelming insight into what exactly people mean when they humanize guitars. "Do do doop, dum"—those guitars sang it.

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