Thee Open Sex

Blake Gillespie

Thee Open Sex

Apache Dropout mentioning a “sister band” on one of its social media outlets is all the introduction we needed to give Thee Open Sex a listen, but we won't front like the name didn't lend encouragement. Bloomington strikes us as a rad Midwest college town that most likely breeds killer garage bands that dissolve in under four years, while one might stick comprised of post-grads and dropouts who became townies. Eventually, interests beyond garage begin to stick and a band willing to call itself “Amon Düül meets Betty Davis” takes form.

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Thee Open Sex is best when it slips into a catatonic state of scuzzy trance, like on “I Do Not Know What” which finds a chugg-a-loo kinship with Moon Duo. Unlike the Duo or even Wooden Shjips though, Thee Open Sex don't entirely committ to the Germanic drone influence and let too much of the pin-up Betty rock-a-billying seep in. Sure, it will send a biker bar into a frenzy, but “Maximum Rock and Roll II” is the balance that will make a Hell's Angel break down and start rubbing that Sailor's tat he got for the one that got away.

Thee Open Sex's debut LP is available via Magnetic South.

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