Old Monk – Birds of Belize

[Sleeper]

Lara wrote this:

>>>
What do you get when you cross the jaded affectation and unbalanced
tempo of 90s-era Pavement with the energy of pop punk and the
attention span of an ADD-inflicted toddler? Brooklyn’s Old Monk
attempt to answer that question with their debut full-length release,
Birds of Belize. At just under 40-minutes, the album is a quick fix
for the twitchy music addict who’s jonesin’ for something fast,
jumbled, and a touch miffed. It’s not an easy listen, as the band
seems determined to wreak havoc on your central nervous system. But
the payoff’s worth the risk of a few involuntary spasms (some people
call this “dancing”). Birds of Belize is exciting, fresh, and like any
successful bender, leaves its listener wanting more.

It’s worth mentioning that singer Josh Carrafa doesn’t have a typical
artist’s “day job”; he’s a practicing lawyer, and up until about a
year ago, his specialty was multi-million dollar divorce suits. Once
can’t help making a connection between this high-profile—presumably
highly stressful—career and Carrafa’s proclivity for frantic, madcap
rock music. We’ve all seen some version of this story: powerful,
wealthy, unhappy executive seeks to escape his repressed lifestyle via
drugs, anonymous sex, and/or listening to moderately upbeat 80s pop
music while chopping a colleague into tiny pieces. Perhaps Old Monk is
Carrafa’sescape, which is not unheard of and surely healthier than a
homicidal preoccupation with “Sussudio”*. At the very least, he
acknowledges how these experiences in law may have shaped—and continue
to influence—his songwriting; as he articulates “there’s certainly a
lot of tension and emotion in divorce law, so that is always an
interesting energy to drive creativity.”

To really listen to Birds of Belize is to realize that this is a labor
of love. Carrafa and bandmate Ian Burns pen songs that drip with odd
nuances, at once mysterious and close to home. Their prose reads like
a well-worn journal full of academic references to Europa and Goya’s
Saturn Devouring His Son, casually viewed through the lens of someone
who’s still searching for meaning in the trivial details of life. If
that sounds like a heap of pretentious poo, don’t worry—the duo has a
sense of humor. Take “Warm Moustache,” a tongue-in-cheek (and pretty
accurate) critique of the cool kids that fill the streets of their
gentrified neighborhoods: “The band keeps changing its name to what
everyone’s saying / and they really hate the new one / you think
you’re Pynchon / but you’re just Bedford and seventh.” When they're
not biting the hands that feed them, Old Monk is busy obliterating
eardrums. Birds of Belize is loud, and from what I hear, the band has
no problem cranking the volume “up to eleven” at their live shows.
Consider yourself warned.

Birds of Belize was released in January. You can order the album via
EenieMeenie Records; or, if you want a little taste before committing
to album ownership, listen to three tracks at Soundcloud, including
the aforementioned “Warm Moustache.” For more information, visit Old
Monk’s official website and Facebook page. The band is currently
playing a weekly residency at the Cake Shop, NYC, so if you’re in the
area, check them out! (But maybe bring a pair of earplugs, just in
case you’re able to repress the embarrassment of wearing earplugs.)

*Of course, no one is insinuating that Josh Carrafa is a real-life
musical Patrick Bateman. I just want to be clear: this man does not
murder people. Although, that would be an interesting twist on a
familiar plot: seemingly innocuous indie musician who exorcises his
demons by figuratively and literally rocking his audience to death.
Josh, you work in intellectual property now, how easy would it be to
patent this idea?