Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Tommy Allen and Sarah Cronin met in a bar, fell in love, exchanged demo tapes. You know how this works. Forming Drug Rug, inviting some friends along the way, they ambled through this album, happily indulgent in their new relationship. Really, though, I wish they would have saved the music for later, because someone needs to punch Sarah Cronin in the face. This is a solid '60s psychedelic pop sound a la the Byrds meets modern indie twee sensibilities in a lo fi recording studio kind of album. Think chicken jello,
, and plastics - along with a whole lot of hash. Except on the songs where Sarah Cronin gets out of control.