Darker My Love - Self Titled

So I was Pacman this year for Halloween. For the second year in a row, I’ve decided to pass on obscure or cult movie characters or anything actually ‘scary,’ in lieu of costumes that are straight-ahead obvious. Last year I was a giant bag of jellybeans, and this year I tied two over-sized yellow foamboard circles around my neck, complete with black circle eyes and triangle mouths. The reasoning behind this new policy is simple: no one would question what I am. If someone was drunk enough and asked, I’d say “Obviously, I am Pacman sir.”

Sometimes bands take the opposite approach. Such is the case with Darker My Love, a California quartet that plays within such a loose, heavily spaced-out fuzzy haze that its hard to figure out what the hell is going on. Is that one song over? Is that a guitar solo, feedback, or did he just leave his guitar ringing while he lit a cigarette? Whatever is going on, it’s all good. Their self-titled album consists of loose-fitting, reverby guitar rock jams; a dozen tracks baked with just enough pepper to keep you awake at the wheel.

At a Halloween party Darker My Love is not easy to put a finger on, like some people’s Halloween costumes. Calling them psychedelic would be too easy and trite. While someone else may come off as a weirdo or pretentious while smugly explaining their Millard Fillmore costume, Darker My Love is just cool. They are the guys who don’t give a crap about Halloween, or your costume for that matter. “What’s your costume?” you say. “Just a rock band,” they reply while looking over your shoulder, eying the bottles of whiskey on the table next to the pair of nurses.

Originally featured at Staticmultimedia.com