What Black Bear/Brown Bear does better than everyone else could arguably be what plants them front and center in the race for Chicago’s next not-so-famous garage band. No more than a year after reinventing their image, blowing our minds with not one, but two drummers, and choosing a name worthy of some Northwest Side Chicago street cred, Black Bear/Brown Bear has cuddled up to our yearning auricles with beats that will make you feel as though you were just born out of an hour long jazzercise class.
Mixing two incredibly unique yet polar opposite voices on a ten track LP, Black Bear/Brown Bear is proving to this industry that their bums are planted right under this tree of indie-rock ear candy and the ain’t goin’ no where.
Don’t expect these guys to commence this ride with a slow jam. No, just as their individual personalities warrant anyone in their path to overflow with awkwardly giddy excitement, so will this newest edition to their family.
Appropriately titled Good Luck, anyone jamming out will feel a connection to each member of the band, whether you hear their voices on the track or not. Forget a Parental Advisory label, these guys need to plaster a Too Much Fun Advisory on their tickets, tracks, and foreheads warning listeners of what they are getting themselves into!
What’s the point of waiting if the hard work ain’t worth the reward. The words on Muscles leave you in a space jam (get it?). Wondering,” what the hell am I feeling right now? I don’t care, because I like it!” Whether or not these lyrics are close to home, they feel like an indication of each member’s personal journey with the band. Hard work, rewards, and wishes of good luck seem to be the tags that define this album as you drift in and out of these high and low tempo tunes.
If you’re looking for an unambiguous culprit of melodious amusement look no further. Good Luck, makes you feel as though you just got laid sashaying off a Boeing 737 as the sun smacks you around a bit with it’s comfortably lukewarm arms. Warning—the corners of your mouth will be locked in the upright position until this trip is over due to the overwhelming amount of fun penetrated into this 35:30 long album.
With infusions of African psychedelic soul, chaotically organized strings, and hard rock Spanish líricos you are left to create your own interpretation of what genre Good Luck actually fits into. But, fret not—similar to the abstractions of a Bob Dylan ballad, these emotions are welcomed with loving arms as these Midwest hunks serenade you through a hip-shaking journey.