Rock n Roll Boston!

Liv: “Hey Sam, want to write for my blog?”

Sam: “I’m already occupied with my King Kong Fans of America and Waffle or Regular Cone? blogs, I’m stretched a little thin…”

Liv: “Well, it’s a music blog for Boston bands.”

Sam: “Music? Boston ? It’s? I’ve heard of that stuff before!”

Liv: “Uh, great! Ever heard of the Televandals?”

No, I had not, and did what any sane human being would do: asked the band what exotic animal they’d like to domesticate. (Calm down, PETA members, just for fun)

“There is an ongoing debate between Koala, Bengal Tiger, albino crocodile, and Ewok,” replied the Televandals’ Nico. “Though ewoks know how to use tools so I don’t know if they’re really considered animals.”

The Televandals are the Koala bear, the Bengali tiger, and the albino crocodile. They are the Ewok. They could even be the Rancor.

On the surface, their music is electronica-punk pop. Fun pop. The synths and guitars work well against one another, complimenting each other like peanut butter to fluff. On the track “Dirty Lovers” off their Madison Avenue Reality EP, the long-drawing synth supports a guitar that pings back and forth with a natural cohesion. The bridge perfectly weds these two, placing the guitars behind electronics that channel 80s dance clubs, allowing the strings to add their own earthy flavor to the spaced-out beats. A casual listener can’t help to nod his head back and forth. It is his duty to move, whether it is a slight foot tapping while you’re listening in the office over some headphones, or a full-out, seizure-inspired gyration as the Televandals explode out of larger-than-your-momma speakers. They have an accessible sound because it is a fun sound.

Where the Televandals bring it together is in their vocals. Joe Strummer ain’t dead—he just got lost in Boston and said “Fuck it, I’m staying here with these guys.” The track “Downpour” could be a Clash /Mescalaros b-side; Jared’s voice punctuates each syllable, as his aggressive rasp pulls the words across the measures with a natural intensity. Sometimes, they are overshadowed by the music and it is hard to tell what they are saying. The previously mentioned “Dirty Lovers” is the worst offender—I spent too much time trying to hear what he had to say as the layering and volume of the guitars and synth hid vocal clarity. But once you pick up what is said during the verses, the message is clear: the filth of society is tearing us apart. From individual tragedies to the plights of our people, the Televandals want you to act with your fellow man in mind, to make this place a little less shitake mushroom.

That is where the Televandals are the Koala bear, the Bengali tiger, and the albino crocodile. They are a versatile quarter that is not defined by their indefinable electronica-punk tag. The music is made up like a model and still maintains the natural air you’d expect to hear from ten feet away. Their tracks are harmonically channeled through a wire. Either from your speakers or from the stage, the Televandals can’t help but inspire through their beauty and fresh creativity.

That is where the Televandals are the Ewok, and could even be the Rancor. The depth of their lyrics cannot be appreciated without focus on the listener’s part. But given the opportunity for a steady ear, they allow us to take a serious look at violence and self-confidence and the injustices in the populace without the tense, nervous feeling someone screaming in your face prompts. On a level head you are allowed to interpret what they say and come to your own conclusions—no one is forcing their opinions on you, just conscientious opinions and ideas.

Oh, and the Rancor? If you could avoid throwing skulls at their electronics during the show, that’d be great.

Look out for their first full-length album in a couple of months, and be sure to check them out at the Providence Music Festival on July 24th where they’ll play at “Goodtimes”.

Article by Sam Landry
Photo by Liv Hauck