8 Phoenix Bands Who Deserve to Be Famous Right Now
Sometimes it seems like wishing for a band to be famous is just the most polite way imaginable of wishing for all of its members to lead miserable, unloved, unfulfilling lives. Rest assured that when our writers got together to talk about Phoenix bands who deserve to be famous none of us meant it that way--when we say "famous," we aren't wishing for public meltdowns and twerking against Alan Thicke's son and alienation from all your non-famous friends.
The Gin Blossoms were ineligible for this exercise.
We just mean that it would be cool if more people were listening to their music. (And if they want a verified Twitter account, or something, that'd probably be cool, too.) As the year draws to a close we'll be highlighting lots of bands and artists making a mark on the Valley's music types; here, in no particular order, are eight of them.
We dropped this one in early as a kind of disclaimer about the conceit behind our project--by "should be famous," we are not exactly suggesting we know how they would be famous. We're acting as fans, that is, not as agents. Wooden Indian ought to be famous, because if they were we'd get to hear their Jupiter's-atmospheric songs more often at venues with really expensive sound systems.
Whether that takes a national trend toward more unnerving movie soundtracks, or toward heavy off-kilter pop songs, or even the band landing a major crossover-pop hit with Pink--well, it's not ours to say. But Wooden Indian is the kind of band you hope people who aren't listening to them yet will stumble over. And when you say a band should be famous you're really just hoping for a lot of those moments, one right after the other.
Future Loves Past
Future Loves Past's debut album gave "polish" a good name. "Disco," too. Those weren't the only musical jargon the Tempe natives rehabilitated on All the Luscious Plants, but they were the first ones you had to confront when you listened to it. It's a polished, dance-y, slick -- that's another one -- album.
Everything on the slinky, soulful end of FLP's sound has been turned up over the course of the last year. Sometimes literally: Where the vocals once served as a quiet counterbalance to the steady, forceful rhythm, they're now its swaggering equal. An audible precision escapes through the spacey atmospherics on songs like the stuttering "Lupa."
Future Loves Past is good if you love pop music, and good if you're afraid of pop music. That sounds to us like as good a path as any to national success.