White Arrows may never divulge the source of their strange magic, but it's hard not to picture a mystic dance floor hidden in the midst of a tropical rainforest. The Los Angeles band stands at these balmy crossroads like a vision from an alternate reality: classic without leaning on nostalgia, visionary but not unfamiliar. What should be a collision of sounds and styles—ritualistic rhythm and four-four thump, synth sequences and strummed guitars, garage-y grind and airy atmosphere—is, in this quintet's capable hands, a fluidly seething whole. Call it Psychotropical pop, something both busy and breezy Call it Paul Simon in space (others have). Call it what you will. This is White Arrows.
White Arrows may never divulge the source of their strange magic, but it's hard not to picture a mystic dance floor hidden in the midst of a tropical rainforest. The Los Angeles band stands at these balmy crossroads like a vision from an alternate reality: classic without leaning on nostalgia, visionary but not unfamiliar. What should be a collision of sounds and styles—ritualistic rhythm and four-four thump, synth sequences and strummed guitars, garage-y grind and airy atmosphere—is, in this quintet's capable hands, a fluidly seething whole. Call it Psychotropical pop, something both busy and breezy Call it Paul Simon in space (others have). Call it what you will. This is White Arrows.
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