April 19, 2010
Listening to the Maine Coons is like never getting fully dressed in the morning, marching down to McCarren Park to meet some friends, getting well-oiled on Tecates in 65 degree weather, calling it a day, crashing in a San Loco to eat a burrito the size of two hamsters, and stealing a garden ornament on the way home.
The Maine Coons are the one man band of lead singer anonymous, and they have been very busy this weekend. In the last two days they’ve trailblazed Williamsburg and Greenpoint, playing Glasslands, Joe’s Fresh Pad, and Coco 66.
The Coons sound like a philandering cousin to local favorites The Beets. The Coons’ songs with shouted vocals and tom and snare drums chronicle lazy playboyism and being a causeless, incorrigible musician. For instance, “My Kind of Luv” sounds like an early Starlight Mints song, replete with xylophone, whistling and melodic cadences. “Ghetto Queen” plays like the park bench observations of the fairer sex belted out above overdriven guitars.
The Maine Coons sound very Williamsburg-now, drenched in reverb and sing-songyness. You’re likely to see them alongside the Beach bands of the moment. Maybe you’ll even see them in a San Loco.
By Thomas Wilk