Logged In As Admin: {{reverbUser.name}} ({{reverbUser.id_unique()}}), Acting As: {{reverbPageObject.data.name}} ({{reverbPageObject.id_unique}})

Demon Lover / Press

“In the three years of Demon Lover's existence, the band has taken experimentalism not only as permission to muck about with a variety of styles, but to exert some kind of mastery over them.”

“By sight a trio To the ear an undectet Aural exorcise”

“Demon Lover is a power trio...Frontman Andy Lashier has a compelling voice, and he keeps the set grounded with solid bass work. Sam Meyer's rock background provides a powerful rip to the drum sections, while J.J. Hamon reprises his role as the specter of texture, making use of homemade devices to evoke otherworldly sound. ....DemonLover's hybrid of genre conventions is distinctly St. Louis, with wild fret-shredding and hometown twang.”

“Set up on the floor of the venue instead of the stage, openers Demon Lover distributed its freshly-minted spazz tunes throughout the room. A trio of ex-members of Theodore, the band took the experimental edge from its former band and jumped off the other side. The performance was more akin to a freak sideshow, replete with brass and electronic noise machines. Covering "Crazy" by Patsy Cline, front man/bassist/trumpeter Andy Lashier channeled a creepier Stephen Malkmus with distorted, lightly-crooned vocals while J.J. Hamon, the band's guitarist/trombonist/keyboardist, played twangy, surf-rock lines. Three-fourths through the song, Demon Lover paused then crashed into a thrashing punk-noise barrage with drummer Sam Meyer playing one of the gnarliest blast beats I've ever heard. "Fishy" -- which on the recorded version is started by a xylophone -- began with members of the band and audience meowing the opening melody like a cat. At that point, I knew Demon Lover was a new type of animal.”

“Demonlover‘s front man Andy Lashier announced that the Satan-adoring band was “going to play it cool.” Featuring JJ Hamon and Sam Meyer from Magic City and sporting cowboy hats, the band spewed hop-along Western tunes stirred up with fuzzy chunks of surf rock. Predictably unpredictable, Lashier stopped a song in the middle of the set to commune with a ghost in the room who was troubled about a banking account. With a joyful, fuck-it attitude, while somehow maintaining a tight performance of spaghetti-western tunes gone wrong, Demonlover frolicked along as the crowd slowly moved in on them. A wonderfully poppy French cover of Roy Orbison’s “Sweet Dreams Baby,” demonstrated Demonlover’s true prowess: producing pop numbers disguised as oddball jams. Uncomfortable with writing formulaic hooks, the band instead draws from the catchiness of bygone musical styles and converts them into its own feel. Occasionally embellishing a song with trumpets, trombones, keys or whatever else”