Three
piece Portland darlings, Havania
Whaal, up the ante by throwing a mandolin into their fuzzy pop. I
tire of genre-classifications as quickly as anyone. It's a
dangerously limiting business and semantic abridgments do nothing
more than allow us to overuse hyphens. That said, Havania Whaal's
self-described "twee-gaze" may be the most useful turn of
phrase to characterize them. It's fresh, fun, loud, raw, primitive,
bouncy, dreamy, rebellious, and carefree. At some point, the sun
melted a mixtape of Hole, Sonic Youth and Beat Happening into a
boisterous, wine-filled party.
It's
deeply personal, but unlike a lot of the mainstream indie-pop,
Havania Whaal doesn't appear comfortable to simply strum along. It's
steeped in a DIY aesthetic that challenges as much as it celebrates.
They're not afraid to be dirty and musty. There's a grassroot feel to
their vibe -- similar to a suitcase full of unmarked tapes and
handwritten labels. Familiar, but it requires you to linger a little
bit and offers a few surprises as you go.
Havania Whaal combines some of those traditional pop elements with
the joy of making music. They're a great reminder of what it takes to
be a band these days. Creative impulses and good friends always make
for a better band than a vapid, yet well maintained web presence.
