Cheers to everything that is Friday night. I sat on the patio of Low Spirits with Jeremy Kinter, who donned a camera like a bolo tie, and the two gentlemen of the Albuquerque-based band The Lymbs. Gage Bickerstaff, guitarist and vocalist, and Jeff Bell, drums, offered up several anecdotes of who The Lymbs are. But with the constant interruptions of whiskey gingers, a blonde, a hippy with a medical marijuana excuse, and the hastily approaching show, only one memorable quote was taken from the table: “We are a new spin on the analog set.”
With that, I stood alone in front of the stage on what would become a packed dance floor. Analog, shmanalog. The only thing on my mind when The Lymbs broke into their set was, “Yes please!” Driven by the distortion, delayed blues, and synth clutch, more of the crowd caught on and made their way to the floor. It became crowded and kinetic, and as Jeremy took trendy action pictures of the show, I found solace at a nearby table. There, I noticed that it took a certain kind of woman to dance to this. The voodoo-hipped, sweaty haired, and willing kind of woman. God bless those women, and bless The Lymbs for contriving those women.
Enough about those women. Gage and Jeff have put together a sound that could be defined the way most people define artists, like if So and So had a baby with Joe Shmoe and then that baby was adopted by that one guy ... but I'm not about to do that. What I will say is this, the musicianship portrayed and felt when listening to the duo is unsurpassed by any local act I've heard for quite some time. During their set, Gage took absolute control of every note he wanted and Jeff was right there to accent them appropriately. At one point Jeff teased his cymbals for an entire song, only to come right back the next, and bash them harder than any drum he had on stage. It was an assault; one that was quickly extinguished by a thick synth loop that laid its blanket over every low spirit. If it wasn't for the necessity of ending their set for other acts, I'm certain the entire crowd would have listened to everything The Lymbs have, and then some.
In the over-saturated realm of rock and roll, The Lymbs have found a mountain of sound to stand on. With the desire to not only be unique, they strive to lyrically inform their stance on culture, love, and the importance of change. In the past month I have gotten to know these gentlemen well, and I feel fortunate for it. I suggest everyone reading this to visit their website, listen to their music, and go see them live. You deserve The Lymbs' post-rock blues the way ginger deserves whiskey.