Mwahaha mean well, but there's something conservative about them.
Long after it’s been proved beyond doubt that all the groovy sounds made by analogue synths can be perfectly replicated by cheap, feather-light computer plugins, earnest dorks will still blow their wads on the real thing. Hey, they look cool, and imperfection can be creative. But yeah, actually, they just look cool. Oakland’s craply named Mwahaha have many old synths, posing with them all in their publicity photos. They are, at least, a consistent presence on their debut album, which has an upbeat indie skeleton (‘Swimmer’ and ‘Sleep Deep’ recall Grandaddy and The Magnetic Fields respectively) but is capable of veering off into metronomic krautrock pastures. Curiously, its highest-profile turn – the appearance of Merrill ‘Tune-Yards’ Garbus on ‘Love’ – is also its least tuneful, discounting the section of ‘Rivers And Their Teeth’ which is just a sample of rushing water. They mean well, but there’s something conservative about them.