If I told you you would see giant buzzards circling our solar system while resting your head on the surprisingly plush void of outer space while you listened to Breasts, would you believe me? I listened to this album a couple times, completely unaware that I was listening to something good. Breasts were like this mumbling homeless guy on a street corner, and I was just grinning aimlessly as I half-ignored him. Then I randomly encountered the homeless guy at a store in a nice neighborhood. He was counting the beads of a pearl necklace under his breath as I slowly approached him. As I try to figure out whether or not he notices me, he turns to me and says, "Meeting adjourned."

I had died and not noticed. There I was, resting in outer space on a pillow of my own unstoppable need to seek the attention of others. I lifted my head and there were the buzzards, completing a turn around Neptune. Woah, when did "breasts" get this interesting? I asked. With a name like 'Breasts' you can't help but think a lot of things before you listen to the music of this San Jose band that chose a cheeky moniker. Just imagine doing a Google search for this album. Not so simple to find! Between the many profound and lewd references, I think what Parton, Nite and Kooper (the bearded members of Breasts) might want us to get out of their name is that "breasts are amazing." They are! You, dear reader, likely have a life-affirming story to tell involving them. Decidedly low-tech, Breasts The Band do more with less, and their album turns out to be a pretty fetching listen.

Opening song "Quadroon" might lead you to believe that time is standing still as a shuffling drum beat carries along a never-ending two note guitar-echo suite, the warble of an organ and scruffy effects. Breasts prime us with this hypnotizing "journey has begun" moment, and it leads us into the perspective-rendering white of space. The drums and guitar drop out here, leaving us with the organ, signifying the twilight of our sanity. Very effective. The album is like a rowboat fashioned from the battered amplifiers of Sonic Youth floating into a museum of music. The very Joan of Arc second track "Synthetic Frontiers" features Nite's lazy male vocals, an instrument that we hear more of as Breasts saunters along. "True Silver" is home to a group of well-dressed wisps with trumpets and an enchanting finish involving some echoing machinery and what sounds like an Arabian prayer being sung through an old Victrola. "Pools of Blood" sounds like Autolux took a few extra downers and turned their amps up to "mud". A mixture of guest female and male vocals color this psychedelic swamp, and it's already too late to remember your expectations. The odd acoustic closing track "Soporifique" feels like an alien bartender patting you on the back as he calls you a cab home, gently easing you toward your former life.

This is an exciting, albeit a druggy album. "Stoner rock" is a terrible name if you're trying to convince a nay-sayer about the merits of a particular music. That's what we have here, though: psychedellic stoner awesomeness. Yes, being high can make a drunk busker or even the traffic sound amazing, but Breasts transcends that stereotype. The music on this album appeals to many an intellectual fold of the mind despite what you might think of their name (which I certainly wouldn't have chosen). The album has a peculiar vibe, like Carlos Castaneda choosing to smoke DMT in Vegas. By the time the cuckoo clock made of human voices chimes midnight in "Shalamar" (you have to listen to know what I mean) a profound sense of "Other" came over me. It's a moment that singles out the listener, an echoey, spaced-out check-in courtesy of Breasts, a name that is now entirely arbitrary. It's as if Breasts The Band chose their name as a challenge to make you forget it through their music. It works! So when you put this album on, send us a postcard...

-Nayt Keane

P.S. - Do check out their certified-insane video for "Quadroon" and explore their very fun little website where you can find five mp3s from this album.