Terrorbird

It's pretty much impossible to attend one of their sweaty, impassioned gigs and
not come away a convert. - Time Out New York

Their Billy Bragg brothers-in-arms dirges already sound like 100 people singing along, so the sweat-boxed
reality shouldn't be too far off. - Village Voice

Then they played and it was the ten thousandth time we've seen them and it was still killer like it's always killer
and even though that hour was competing with sleep hour, Wild Yaks won out and it was for the better despite
being kind of tired today and not needing more alcohol really. - The Fader

FROM THE WILD YAKS:

This is some writing that this girl Maud did about about us on her blog. I don't know this girl, if I did she would know how actually messy my apartment is or how truly, beautifully refined my taste in movies is. I'm also using this, as I'm wont to do, without her permission, but mostly because her blog doesn't offer any way of getting in touch with her. Without further ado: Sweaty boys playing sloppy drunk jammy music is the reason why I like dudes, and Wild Yaks do it oh so well. I want to be their friends because I bet they have a really dirty apartment and watch really good movies. I want to listen to their music because it's masculine and not at all pretentious and they're so into it and their glasses slide off their noses and their shorts are too short.

The drummer looks like a beardier Williamsburgier Iggy Pop. They sing songs about girls and love and tomahawks and pearls like the world and beg for a new guitar when they bust their own. They have a saxophone player with really sticky-uppy hair. You could totally kick ass and run around and drive your car to their songs. Their myspace url is "boyhoodforever" which makes me think they may be aware of how dudely they are but it makes me like them more. They also played this slower song that actually DID remind me of Jonathan Richman, specifically the part in "A Plea For Tenderness" that goes "I know how beautiful death is (duh duh duh duh duh)/ I know why you hate life..." and so on. They're kind of like a screamier Modern Lovers. Or maybe they're just what The Modern Lovers would be like if they weren't straight edge. If they were real real real drunk.