Joel Frieders | December 28, 2015

Whenever you find a band that, with every fucking song, makes you perform an interpretive dance where most people watching said interpretive dance can determine that you're a plant emerging from the ground and budding live in front of them, that band's a keeper. 

With every song I fall into, I love Amycanbe more. 

While I don't pretend to completely understand where they're coming from, I know and appreciate where they seem to take me. It's that slow growing apprehension paired with that comfortable and complacent stare off in the distance, and it arrives both peacefully and dreadfully. It's akin to taking a train (in the rain of course) to pick up a new comforter that you have to hold the whole way back home. Yes, you aren't looking forward to the discomfort of lugging a huge fluffy monstrosity of cloth on a train, but holy shit once you get it home it's fucking ON. 

Amycanbe, you're fucking amazing. I'd carry your comforter no matter the discomfort.