As if the wheels came off an early rock band, disenfranchised by the scene, Florist Fired is a sarcastic, fractured take on what would otherwise be popular melodies.
When it comes to pinpointing this unique-but-not sound, it comes down to only a few major parts. Singer Jorma Whittaker's reverbed, disappointed vocals, simplistic drumming, and the fuzzy, smudged guitars. Whittaker can clearly carry tune, but he chooses to drag it instead. With eyes seemingly rolled back in his head in front of the microphone, he groans on "Eat Me Out". Most of the time, he seems to sing with an utter lack of concern out of the bottom of his throat.
The drum tracks keep the slacker pace rolling with perfect balance. They, too, are rough on every edge. And the guitars throughout the album are perfectly disheveled. On the title track they're hopelessly fuzzed. On "Das Boot", they sound like a warehouse grinder, while "Luckcharm" features an intimate acoustic strum. Fifty years ago, an outcast punk couldn't do it any better. All of these are just new takes on borrowed ideas. Classic rock of the 60's under a modern, artistic lens.
Florist Fired is sixteen short tracks of wonderfully bruised pop songs from a generation ago. Marmoset pushes that pop world down in the dirt and wipes that smile of its face.
MP3 Stream: "Missing Man"
