Indian Jewelry doesn’t scare me. Different? Sure. A little freaky? Ok. Their sound hints at a well-intentioned acid trip riddled with tenacious darknesses. Picture rattle-chain skeletons that won’t go away, a tightness in the back of your neck, swarms of black insects, wraiths and whatnot.
Pompeii would easily find itself seated next to Cat Stevens in Harold and Maude given the chance. It’s heady and macabre, and feels like…..well…. like a trip to the beach on a sunny day, surfboard tucked underneath the arm, easy-going until the sun starts to drip from the sky, and you suddenly find yourself in a clanging graveyard surrounded by susurrant zombies and the incessant swirrr of maracas that might be the tic-tac of thousands of typewriters, busy blackbirds pecking away, or sandcrabs scurrying along. Though it roughs up my skin and causes superficial squirminess, the storm of Indian Jewelry grows on me, driving me, amidst the chaos, to a deeper point of internal steady and still.
Indian Jewelry tours with Psychic Ills. Tour dates here.