Twin Peaks, Sunken
Featured Album
A promising, sometimes-psychedelic set of glammy Chicago garage rock
To paraphrase the cult-beloved David Lynch TV series that gives Twin Peaks their name: The kids are not what they seem. These four 19-year-olds have little or no stylistic connection to the brilliantly soapy early-’90s sci-fi drama’s ongoing indie influence, which in recent years has extended through Dirty Beaches, the CFCF song title “An Invitation to Love” and the existence of a Brooklyn band called Silent Drape Runners. Rather, what tells you most about Twin Peaks’ self-titled debut album is that they’re from Chicago, the city that has recently given us such glammy garage-rock phenoms as the Smith Westerns and the M’s.
Sunken is a solid, sometimes-psychedelic update on that tradition, built around dueling guitars and guilelessly catchy vocal harmonies. At eight tracks, this is a compact listen, and it wouldn’t be unfair to wish these guys would scrub away bit more of the murk that sometimes renders their lyrics indistinct. But the surfy “chill guy” romp “Stand in the Sand” and starry-eyed romantic inquiry “Irene” show Twin Peaks have a fair amount of range within their chosen niche, as well as the ultra-melodic sensibilities to cover that ground effectively.
