Beautifully strange & interesting lyrics, coupled with punchy hooks, are delivered in an artfully sloppy package, resurrecting soft-notes of grunge to linger on the roof of your mouth, sending tonsils flailing. The music best represents youth, reckless-abandon, & freedom.
Fronting the band is 20-something vocalist & songwriter Elizabeth O’Brien. Best described as: when Snow White meets Punk Rock with pliers, screaming one minute, then batting her lashes in the next sultry breath convincing you it never happened. Believe. As a listener, you catch her red-handed at the intersection between folding in despair and fighting her way out kicking & screaming. Tough yet vulnerable. Careless yet thoughtful. Straight-forward yet seemingly polite. All you can know is that you don’t know everything, as there are more layers to this band than baklava. Mmmm. Baklava.
Guitarist & bassist, Paul Scialabba, along with drummer Sachin Ramabhadran, are the necessitated fuel behind this blazing fire. Musicians by trade, producers by night, they are the driving force that accelerates what otherwise would be a feather in the wind. The dedicated Scialabba, who happens to be a Virgo, will work relentlessly and meticulously in the studio into the early hours of the morning, until he exhausts himself to the point that he starts calling people Henry. Meanwhile, it doesn’t take much to gather that the resolute Ramabhadran was born with drum sticks in his hands; just whatever you do, don’t call him a politician.
From a small town in Connecticut where the river meets the sea, O’Brien is an artist by nature. Melodies flood in at the most random, inconvenient of times. They wake her from her sleep, or spontaneously surge into her head while driving off the highway ramp. Known to use windshield wipers back & forth for drum beats, O’Brien learned fast to improvise when creativity strikes. She writes lyrics on her bed, just as easily as on soap boxes in the shower, cocktail napkins from bars, drink coasters, chocolate bar wrappers, unopened bills that stayed unopened, deposit slips, take-out menus, & yes, even airplane barf bags. Hey, just being honest.
She never forces herself to write. She only writes when she is forced to. Forced to by a possessed inspiration that rushes into her blood and breathes life back into her paling lips, that carries no interest in whether or not she is armed with a pen & paper, just an open heart. Sorry if that sounded Hallmark because I know it did.
In case you’re wondering, she has a twin sister who also rocks out so keep your eyes open. Should you be interested in taking both O'Brien twins under your wings on a developmental/project deal, please contact Elizabeth at [email protected].
Thank you,
NYMPH