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Hot Panda - Go Outside

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By: Joel Frieders
Hot Panda, Go Outside, Rock Punk, Vancouver
Album Rating:
7

*THERE IS A PENIS ON THE COVER BRO! WOOOOOOO!*

I've heard One In The Head, One In The Chest about 77 times this past month. Yep. Seventy fucking seven times.

I blame my music organizational skillz, but whattheFuckever bro bro, I heard that shit multiple fucking timez.

Hot Panda are the fucking obnoxious love child of Lou Reed and Sonic Youth, but all the while maintaining a sense of rhythm, and ignoring the technique of being weird for the sake of being weird. Hot Panda are the band stricken with a front man that's as important to them as they are to him, as everything I'm in love with when discussing Hot Panda is based on my love or explicit hatred of their front man.

Noting their distinctly specific recording technique, with the lead melody driven guitar in my left ear and the chunk a chunk rhythm guitar in my right, the mix of the vocals isn't as overbearing as I would've imagined after the opening track had finished. Hot Panda aren't what I imagined they would be after hitting play, but that's fucking awesome, as I assumed they would start singing about my gorgeously crevice accentuated pair of testicles.

Alas, they did not sing about my testicles, but on songs like Future Markets and Maybe Now? this fucking band has taken Bob Dylan and thrown him into a pair of hipster jeans and tucked in flannel and made him sound both modern, and islandy. Yea, I hear this marimba on Maybe Now? and it's making me crave a rum runner and a doob, and I get the feeling my masturbation station shall be on the hotel balcony tonite bros.

I get the distinct feeling that some people aren't going to get Hot Panda just because they aren't filling a mold or a cast of a band someone else has already sucked off, but what I'm pulling off these assbags after spending time with the album Go Outside is they're as eager to create sass and intuberance in the listener as they are molding compunction and shabangpussshits as well.

Hot Panda is fucking fun as fucking Fuck to listen to, all the while keeping that consistent nod towards a punky classic rock indie rock type of guy in a leotard that's as functional as it is spacious.

I CAN SEE HIS BALLS BRO. Hot Panda. Bangarang.

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