Harlem always felt less like “garage rock” and more like a yard sale: strewn out in the driveway, “as is” stickers, handwritten signs down the street announcing “yard sale, this Saturday” still up the following Friday. There was a devil-may-care-but-I-do mentality to their songs, and a fuzzed sound with raised-voice vocals that belied the underlying catchiness that emanated out of each track. But the (relatively) meteoric rise of the band - accolades and a contract with Matador Records - was either too much or not quite right, and they went silent after 2010’s
To continue reading, become a member or log in.
