For The Orwells, Remember When will be an introduction of sorts—the 12-track rat-race shows the band’s repertoire of pranging riffs and sneering, snot-nosed vocals. The tracks are a walloping war-cry from a generation that up until this point has only offered bubblegum pop—the animus of The Orwells. It’s quite clear early on the in listening to the LP that the band is well aware of the past, the homage rings through the record, using the ghost of punk’s past as their musical sprit guide. However, the band straddles the thin line between their influences and their originality, ripping riffs and smashing drums in a fashion that their age into being just another fact mentioned in their bio.
The Orwells are made up of five dudes from Chicago, Illinois. They play rock n roll music. Their names are Mario, Grant, Henry, Dominick and Matt. They write songs — scratch that, primitive teenage battle cries — about girls and America and being suspended from high school. Although one might categorize The Orwells’ distinct brand of the blues as garage or punk, they would be wrong. The Orwells sound comes from a deeper, different place–a place both long forgotten and also timeless.
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