Tweak Bird
Under Cover Crops

A mess for all seasons.

And I could end it here. But instead, I'll add that Tweak Bird literally means "pinch-bird," but I don't think it refers to the grip of the penis, a typical soccer-related mishap. In the meantime, it’s a moniker that sounds frighteningly good, and then: I wouldn’t know exactly why "Tweak," maybe an invitation to shake off musical oblivion or who knows what, but "Bird" is the common surname of this Illinois duo. Yes, they are brothers. And they are also idiots. But such lovable idiots. Idiots to the point of being brilliant. Because you don't become the trusted sidekick of the Melvins if you don't have something special inside you.

In 2012, they produced this "Under Cover Crops" under the protective wing of a certain Dale Crover - go figure. A quarter of an hour and some change of a half-blinding revelation. The cover, with its sheltered vegetables, reminds us that vegetables, plants in general, and especially certain plants are really good for you. But if you listen to them, you don’t need them. Because the Birds offer the complete package: first, they drug you with two minutes of cacophony that almost feels like a Sabbathian tribute ("Everyone is paranoid") on a bed of electronic burning coals and arcane laments, and then they deliver six tracks with the beautiful stoner guitars, combined with catchy melodies and a liberating female voice. Pop songs in Sleep sauce. Simple, repetitive, almost naive structures, obviously crappy lyrics that couldn't be crappier ("He's got a bunch of brains...too bad...too bad...he DON’T use iiiiiiit"). And then there's the fatalism about pigeons. And in the end, there's "Know it All," where the burden of knowledge is palpable, an inalienable asset but also a painful burden. 

I don't know. A stupid thing, maybe, you'll say. But there's talent, eh: listen to "Weight," there’s something there, there’s talent, you can't deny it. An EP that probably first draws you in and then makes you angry. However, once the anger of a die-hard purist has subsided, I really want to see if one day you don't find yourself humming "Psychorain." An album that suits the holidays a lot, but also in summer, in the evening, shirtless at sunset with an ice-cold beer. Or, during the cold months, for a good screw.

And let me have some fun!