Does anybody else remember the old days when anything stripped down and played by two folks would automatically be classified as part of the new breed of garage rock? Yeah, I'm happy that's over too.
The brother and sister duo of Alex and Francis White probably don't care about any comparisons to past bands that have since gone on to lucrative careers counting their money, or ones that are stuck at home looking at pictures of better bands sailing on the Bruise Cruise. They've gone past all that and are offering up gnarly, fuzzed out psychedelic headfuckers that will probably piss off your neighbors if played at a high enough volume.
On this debut track off their forthcoming LP, Alex hollers some existential mumbojumbo that has me asking, “Is that Sartre or is that mushroom people speak?” All the while, the drumbeat is more Dale Crover (Melvins) than Meg White (no relation); Alex's snarl is equally as nasty as the buzzsaw she seems to be wielding at the end of the song, and you're left wondering if the White Mystery are the final nail in the coffin of garage rock or if this is an entirely different animal.
If it's the latter, long live the new flesh.
