The Chambermaids are siblings Neil (vocals, guitars) and Martha Weir
(vocals, bass), Colin Johnson (drums), and Nate Nelson (guitars.) The Weirs formed the band
nearly four years ago in Minneapolis, MN with a drum machine. They cut
five demos, put them on their website (www.thechambermaids.com) and began
playing out in the indie rock friendly dive bars of the Twin Cities.
Soon the song “City Predators†was picked up by local college radio
station, Radio K (where the band also did an on air performance) and
the Twin Town’s music scene was formerly introduced to The Chambermaids.
The Chambermaids have recently released their debut full-length record, a slab
of weird noise and ugly beauty. The Weirs both sing, alternating lead
and backing vocals that run the gamut from lovely to awful (in that
good, Mark E. Smith kind of awful). Punchy clean bass lines, slicing
noisy guitars, and minimalist drumming (Johnson’s subtle homage to
that icy minimalism of the fired drum machine – it should be noted
that his technique is similar, yet made organic by jarring
idiosyncratic fills and runs) punctuate the oddly catchy melodies and
murky lyrics.
The songs aren’t really pop, but they do have a sensibility. This
stuff isn’t thrown together, but it definitely isn’t tidy. The sounds that emanate from the recordings present an unconscious and weirdly foreboding sense of serendipity that makes The Chambermaids’ sound difficult to peg. Naturally, there are points of reference: certainly Wire and Sonic Youth; probably The Jesus & Mary Chain and The Velvet Underground with bits of the far-reaching shoegazer genre and old-fashioned 60s pop, but they do it in their own way.
From the two-minute 60s R&B-through-art-punk-racket of “City
Predators†and “Nailed To The Floor†to the foreboding-slow-burn of
“Sleeper†and “Tin Murderâ€, The Chambermaids pillage pop and rock history,
tweaking and bending their influences enough, decreeing this isn’t
theft. Believe me, this is more than homage. This is what makes good music.
Written by Chris M. Short
