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“I've had the (Darwin's Finches : Old Skatillavich) album in my car CD player for a month now and it doesn't look like it's going anywhere. It's the Cramps meets the White Stripes only better.”
“I arrived to catch Galveston’s Darwin’s Finches who apparently come with their own dancing neo-hippie fans. Kicking-off with a song that cops a Stooges riff is not a bad opening gambit and the flailing abrasive guitar work of Justino Saladino grabbed you by the collar and shook you to the core all night. As performers, they understood how to dig into that primeval cromag thing that made you whip out that Dio devil sign and when the material matched the performance it was earth shattering. One song…something about a party. Holy Rob Tyner! Justino’s nervous stuttering phrasing on that song killed!!! Seriously, the energy of the performance and the primal rock and roll power coming off the stage felt like the band was channeling the MC5 in all its glory. That’s not to say that every song pegged it to that level but, for the most part, I can see why people have been bandying their name about – here’s serious island rock and roll.”
“Darwin’s Finches, from Galveston Texas, went on next and they rocked exceedingly hard. The band was fronted by this very timid, reserved-looking, guy but when he got up on stage he shredded in a way I’ve seen few people shred before. He was positively electric on stage as he squirmed and jumped and rocked. The vocals were great too, they reminded me of a higher-pitched, more articulate Les Claypool. One of the best parts of their set was a super-raw, garage-rock, cover of “Surfin’ Bird” by the Trashmen complete with water sounds and the bizarre “oom-pow-pow”. The members are really nice”
“Argh. I suck, I suck, I suck — I've got this massive pile of CDs sitting on my desk (well, okay, right now large chunks of it are riding around in my backpack), and Old Skatillivich, the full-length from Galveston-dwelling weirdballs Darwin's Finches is practically living at the top of the pile, in desperate need of some focused attention I've yet to give it. Which is especially painful because I do like what I've heard so far, even if it throws me for a loop every damn time; the shambling, backwoodsy strangeness these guys bring forth is hard to pigeonhole but still pretty neat; I've got to give it a more serious listen, and soon.”
“Hailing from Galveston, Darwin's Finches write catchy, raw, loud indie-rock that all blends together to create a feeling that the band may be enjoying the music more than their fans. Still, if you catch the Finches on the right night, you might think you've stumbled upon the area's answer to the White Stripes.”