The Diggs-Trouble Every day

Empty, long corridors and boys with their brit pop hair and dirty Gibson guitars, soaked in the rain, with the feedback ringing, with a hint of melodrama, with a hint of angst and sorrow, and that flash of emo mixed with that 90's indie rock that we're all so familiar with. Then, that chorus, this mocking attempt at revenge, this faux anger, this faux I'm-so-over-you-I'm-okay-alone, this pressure of low key volume increase, this drumline squeezing up the tempo, and suddenly, it's gone. This flash of memories and that glance into emotions. Gone. And perhaps you're left feeling cheated, like it should have been some rock soap opera and the lead character walked off the set without another word. Without so much as a goodbye.

That's what I see from NYC boys The Diggs, they who are doing club shows and getting good reviews, their sound that nags at your memeories of those dusty, musty indie rock kids with awkward haircuts with that dreamy, spaced out My Bloody Valentine type layers of instrumentals. Those bursts of noise and explosions of vocals tipped off to an almost nonchalant attitude. At this point, my brain has gone through several time warps, and I have no idea.