There isn't much,
in an age of emptiness, that can push us to yell catchy refrains and climb on
each other in a bar without feeling the presence of a certain cliché behind our
now-older teenage heads. And still. In a dream, I was on my bike, going down a
hill that, to my great satisfaction, had no end. Jay Mascis passed me on a
skateboard and said: "See? What are you complaining about!" I
understood why I still love to have part of the nineties thrown in my face by
six speakers and a struggling drum set. It's a little like adding Canada DryTm
to your beer when it's too hot out. Describing a band may very well be a
waste of time these days. I could tell you I see a gorilla breaking down a
suburban garage door with purple lazers coming out of its eyes when I hear this
one. But let's be honest: we need a band like Solids.
-David Courtemanche-
