I received a rather baffling press release recently, about a show coming up next week at the Badlander.
Witness the one-sentence pitch:
“Deleted Scenes are an interesting DC-based quartet with occupations outside of the band ranging from medical research to stop severe bleeding to teaching English as a second language.”
Okay, forget that band names are singular rather than plural, thus demanding is rather than are. And let’s try not to get caught up in whether that list includes two professions or three (is “stop severe bleeding” a job?).
Here is the thing that really gets me: Is this band so musically uninteresting that their main appeal is the stuff they do when they’re not on stage?
Hardly, it turns out.
Tunes like “Bedbedbedbedbed,” with its dreamy, glitchy sing-song echo-chamber, typify the band’s dopey appeal. Singer Dan Scheuerman never gets too excited about anything, even as he croons, “you are an immaculate girl” over an incessant double-bass-drum rhythm. Meantime, his bandmates chime and peck at their instruments only enough to keep the waking dream from disintegrating into snoring slumber.
Deleted Scenes might have a song called “The Days of Adderall,” but do not become confused: This is hardly a focusing stimulant. More like a Cure song heard through an opium haze.
Despite the off-base PR, the band has been noticed by the likes of NPR, Spin, and Pitchfork, all of which have lauded Deleted Scenes’ recently released, sophomore album, “Young People’s Church of the Air.”
So go stop your severe bleeding – er, rather, go see Deleted Scenes when they play the Badlander next Tuesday, Jan. 17.
That’s pretty bad, but consider the (unedited) press release found in the Religion section of Saturday’s paper about the Tibetan Buddhist teacher Anam Thubten Rinpoche:
“Born and raised in Tibet, he is both compassionate, deeply learned and teaches in English.”