THE SCOOP ON AUTOMATIC LOVELETTER

Automatic Loveletter may look like an emo-dance shopping spree, an alt. punk power fest, but what comes out of this Florida based band is totally unexpected. Their melodies tend to be defined by a rapt hostility, and the sensitivity that often lies behind such emotional violence. Yet their more gentle influences are what sketch their paradise. The acoustic incidents become inflamed with bleakness, teaching you what pain tastes like.

Like the emotions they envelope, they don’t try to be something they’re not. Instead, they allow themselves to be tugged and pulled by the weight of the music.

I’m not overly infatuated with Juliet Simms as the cursory poster girl for the band, and prefer the general shape their music takes. Her voice, though often having the right aim, doesn’t always hit the bullseye. But with her brother Tommy on lead guitar, and everyone else putting in their two cents, they get away with a brew I can agree with.

Yes, the tunes they offer are definitely brain-stickable. I’ll admit, sometimes it’s hard to listen to them without feeling tears creep in, but if a cleansing ritual is what you’re due for, they’ll be good for you. They are unpolished, and that makes them honest, and that makes them worth the time.

Crisp, finely chiselled descent from glitter to grit and grime. Punk edge wrapped up in acoustic. That’s the taste they’re baking up. Their push to new frontiers has been in stores for a while now, and I’m sure they’ve already snapped the heartstrings of many a fan.

Prepare to be broken.

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