Genre: Indie Rock
Whether from the birth canal of some sempiternal, chthonic creature OR from some tatterdemalion’s back-alley bar filled with furmen, Lovedrug the band has never been, and possibly will never be, a smashing success. But they seek it, oddly. Putting oneself out there, not unlike being in this particular bar, is a risky venture. And sometimes the proverbial shit does hit the fan. But why not let it happen? Who knows where this road will lead. Besides, to take back a song is to redress a devil and to redress a devil takes skill that is beyond the common key. And the key these days is to bask in disaster and pet its woolen hand; to build a diamond ring for your lover from the ashes of the pavement that wind up to her house.
The music that floats around inside the belly of this town speaks low with a mutter and tapping into it requires a skewed eye for twisted beauty. The homeless, half-naked, dirty widow at the end of the bar, for instance, knows more about this life than most scholarly folk, I guarantee it. And I tell you this for damn sure, we need to be singing HER song. Take that as you may; the real point is avoid the knell. Let it ring, hear the sound, bow your head and take a moment for the weary soul that just got let down. But please, do not let it stare you down; especially at three in the morning outside a rehearsal space whilst a train blares by at top speed crushing its horn and whipping the cigarette out of your hand.