Forgotten Souls of Antiquity / Press

“Forgotten Souls of Antiquity proudly proclaim on the album cover that their record was recorded in glorious low fidelity; they weren’t kidding. The recording lacks the clean digital polish that is expected from a modern day recording. It’s intentional and brings out an incredible amount of character from their music given its old rock feel. The self titled album is comprised of ten gritty, Southern barroom-esque tunes that seem to be pulled straight out of a rock time machine. The beauty of the album is its familiarity; while these are mostly new songs, they fit right into a great rock comfort zone that many music lovers will settle right into. ”

“What's the name of your band? The Forgotten Souls of Antiquity? Man! That's on some other plane of thought that I can't even comprehend right now... That's bad! I'm gonna have to come back and check you guys out now..."”

Homeless Guy - Cleveland Streets

“Forgotten Souls of Antiquity have a sound from an all but forgotten period in music: the ‘50s. Remnants of the decade can be found in today’s music, but it’s nothing like the pure ‘50s rock and roll this Cleveland band is creating. On the self-titled album to be released June 18, whether it is rockabilly, like the opener “Belly of the Beast, or instrumental surf like “Highway Pipeline,” Forgotten Souls of Antiquity fit its Facebook description of “loud and old.” The band rounds out its sound on its debut album with remakes of “Down by the Riverside” and “No Surf in Cleveland,” and the sax solo in “Lawn Avenue Blues” shows yet another layer in Forgotten Souls’ endless ‘50s sound. Forgotten Souls of Antiquity has a way of taking old genres and putting a new spin on them, turning them into harder versions of their past lives. On its Bandcamp page, the band says it’s like “an old car with new tires,” and its sound is something like a hot ro”

“You're from Cleveland? That's a bad town! I stopped there once on the Greyhound. I came outta the station and seen a hooker wearin' a high heel on one foot and a flip-flop on the other...”

Gas Station Clerk in Nebraska

“Forgotten Souls of Antiquity play a mix of SoCal punk and straight-up psychobilly on their self-titled debut, which was recorded at Cleveland's Sync Studios. On the ominous opener "Belly of the Beast," singer BillMike warns "It's a midnight gamble, and I know I'm going to lose," as twangy guitars strum a Stray Cat strut. The song seamlessly segues into the instrumental rave-up "Highway Pipeline." Elsewhere, the trio channels Tom Waits (the waltzy "The Eleventh Hour") and leads local jazzman Norm Tischler through a woozy sax solo on "Lawn Avenue Blues." Covers of the traditional "Down by the Riverside" and the 1970s novelty song "No Surf in Cleveland" show off their eclectic appeal”