The Highway

Check out video for Brooklyn / Boston band, The Highway’s “Set Me Free.”An energetic, indie rock that has some really catchy hooks.  The video is a total trip, with a 60s style & black and white illusion graphics goes well with their guitar driven throwback rock sound that reminds me of Sweden’s garage rock band The Hives.
- Review by Music Savage

Check out video for Brooklyn / Boston band, The Highway’s “Set Me Free.”An energetic, indie rock that has some really catchy hooks.  The video is a total trip, with a 60s style & black and white illusion graphics goes well with their guitar driven throwback rock sound that reminds me of Sweden’s garage rock band The Hives.
- Review by Music Savage

Although they describe as Led Zeppelin meets The Black Keys, this earthy putfit have more in common with a wide-ranging set of influences that span everything form crunchy jam bands and college rock to punk-jazz. Their style swings from easy breezy, folk oriented fare to high-octane swarm of razor sharp notes and experimental sound collages.

Musicianship: Venezuelan native Daniel Tortoledo's vocal glide smoothly into place, going from silky to the shirek of a million harpies. His guitar slinging likewise shifts from hooky groove to madman psychedelia-one previous show's highlight him shredding with a beer bottle. The set's ultimate anchor, though, is Ted MaInnes' essential skin pounding. Most importantly, the duo display true synchronization entertainingly feeding off each other's energy.

Performance: If nothing else, thisevening proved how much can be done done with just two performers. Despite being down a man, the pair delivered a sound that was as expansive as it was exhilirating. The Highway don't belong in an Irish bar in Harvard Square. For certain, it took some time before the audience came around. A couple of mnid-show pauses slowed this conversion further, but some awkwards banter and a rousing version of "Happy Birthday", sung to one of the vening's intoxicated celebrants mitigiated this roadblock. Yet, when they reached outer rim of weirdness, plunking away at their instruments and emoting a spoken word salad of foggy abstraction, the crwods' limits were tested. Their daring attitude paid dividends, though, when Tortoledo writhed and shrieked in an orgiastic frenzy, culminating in an emotional apex that elicited mass amounts of applause.

Summary: While delivering a fascinating experience, The Highway's strength is also its greatest weakness-what, exactly, is their sound? Their funhouse twists and turns make for an intringuing show, but how does one market what amounts to an audible art installation? A few numbers verge on memorable infectiousness, but never reach a level of poppy hummability. Maybe further shaping their vision will reveal the answer to these imponderables and allow their talent to reach a wider fan base. - Music Conection

Although they describe as Led Zeppelin meets The Black Keys, this earthy putfit have more in common with a wide-ranging set of influences that span everything form crunchy jam bands and college rock to punk-jazz. Their style swings from easy breezy, folk oriented fare to high-octane swarm of razor sharp notes and experimental sound collages.

Musicianship: Venezuelan native Daniel Tortoledo's vocal glide smoothly into place, going from silky to the shirek of a million harpies. His guitar slinging likewise shifts from hooky groove to madman psychedelia-one previous show's highlight him shredding with a beer bottle. The set's ultimate anchor, though, is Ted MaInnes' essential skin pounding. Most importantly, the duo display true synchronization entertainingly feeding off each other's energy.

Performance: If nothing else, thisevening proved how much can be done done with just two performers. Despite being down a man, the pair delivered a sound that was as expansive as it was exhilirating. The Highway don't belong in an Irish bar in Harvard Square. For certain, it took some time before the audience came around. A couple of mnid-show pauses slowed this conversion further, but some awkwards banter and a rousing version of "Happy Birthday", sung to one of the vening's intoxicated celebrants mitigiated this roadblock. Yet, when they reached outer rim of weirdness, plunking away at their instruments and emoting a spoken word salad of foggy abstraction, the crwods' limits were tested. Their daring attitude paid dividends, though, when Tortoledo writhed and shrieked in an orgiastic frenzy, culminating in an emotional apex that elicited mass amounts of applause.

Summary: While delivering a fascinating experience, The Highway's strength is also its greatest weakness-what, exactly, is their sound? Their funhouse twists and turns make for an intringuing show, but how does one market what amounts to an audible art installation? A few numbers verge on memorable infectiousness, but never reach a level of poppy hummability. Maybe further shaping their vision will reveal the answer to these imponderables and allow their talent to reach a wider fan base. - Music Conection

Earnest noodling, a steady beat and straightforward, no-frills vocals: Less is more, and that's exactly what we get with The Highway's Forest People. The local trio specializes in a modern psych rock that couples vintage rock sensibilities with skilled musicianship, leaving audiences with a palatable sound reminiscent of the classic rock standards we've come to accept as the definition of "good."
The breakdown of "Set Me Free" stands out as a highlight on Forest People for its masterful build and soulful bassline, as does the meditative quality of the album's title track. Daniel Tortoledo's effortless baritone is a solid partner for the candid percussive work of Ted MacInnes and the steady guitar stylings of Ysaac Cohen. Every once in a while, you need to return to your roots, and the Highway make a compelling case for expanding upon the foundation of rock in their own way.
- The Weekly Dig

Earnest noodling, a steady beat and straightforward, no-frills vocals: Less is more, and that's exactly what we get with The Highway's Forest People. The local trio specializes in a modern psych rock that couples vintage rock sensibilities with skilled musicianship, leaving audiences with a palatable sound reminiscent of the classic rock standards we've come to accept as the definition of "good."
The breakdown of "Set Me Free" stands out as a highlight on Forest People for its masterful build and soulful bassline, as does the meditative quality of the album's title track. Daniel Tortoledo's effortless baritone is a solid partner for the candid percussive work of Ted MacInnes and the steady guitar stylings of Ysaac Cohen. Every once in a while, you need to return to your roots, and the Highway make a compelling case for expanding upon the foundation of rock in their own way.
- The Weekly Dig

The Highway’s “Set Me Free” does this musical thing where it sort of peeks around the corner to see if the coast is clear before coming out into the open. This is a little silly, because once they make sure no one’s watching, they ever-so-gently tip-toe out into the open and then take off their pants and start setting off firecrackers.

The furtive bass-line checks out the scene and then beckons its other friends along, it’s loudest, non-pants wearing friend that gets the most attention. This friend is the chorus - incidentally the title of the song as well - and the chorus makes its indelible mark on the song and in your consciousness, within the context of the song, of course. And maybe a little afterwards. You see, it’s one of those hooky choruses, the kind where a note drones up high while the melody jumps down the stairs, landing on its feet every time.

Another thing that makes this song stand out is its arrangement - The Highway is a full-featured band and they know not only how to fill up their own space, but how to stay out of each others’ way. A standout performance on the organ adds an important level of texture to “Set Me Free” - its whirring wheels circle at the top of the octave, carving out designs in the song’s roof while the guitars churn down below. While the chorus is the nucleus of this song’s clout, the keyboard adds the extra seasoning that gives it that extra push - just to make sure. It’s like they were already winning, but the keyboard taps in the empty-net goal with seconds to spare. The crowd goes wild - and they should.

- Boston Band Crush

The Highway’s “Set Me Free” does this musical thing where it sort of peeks around the corner to see if the coast is clear before coming out into the open. This is a little silly, because once they make sure no one’s watching, they ever-so-gently tip-toe out into the open and then take off their pants and start setting off firecrackers.

The furtive bass-line checks out the scene and then beckons its other friends along, it’s loudest, non-pants wearing friend that gets the most attention. This friend is the chorus - incidentally the title of the song as well - and the chorus makes its indelible mark on the song and in your consciousness, within the context of the song, of course. And maybe a little afterwards. You see, it’s one of those hooky choruses, the kind where a note drones up high while the melody jumps down the stairs, landing on its feet every time.

Another thing that makes this song stand out is its arrangement - The Highway is a full-featured band and they know not only how to fill up their own space, but how to stay out of each others’ way. A standout performance on the organ adds an important level of texture to “Set Me Free” - its whirring wheels circle at the top of the octave, carving out designs in the song’s roof while the guitars churn down below. While the chorus is the nucleus of this song’s clout, the keyboard adds the extra seasoning that gives it that extra push - just to make sure. It’s like they were already winning, but the keyboard taps in the empty-net goal with seconds to spare. The crowd goes wild - and they should.

- Boston Band Crush

I’ll confess that I’ve looked forward to this album ever since I first shared the stage with The Highway about three years ago.  Despite the years in between, the LP doesn’t disappoint.  This rock is pure and heartfelt; every unexpected chord means as much musically as do Tortoledo’s lyrics on brotherhood and strife, oneness and differences, despair and optimism. There are expanses of psychedelia that pull you down in the spirals on the backs of your eyelids before snarled-lip riff explosions that less demand than command attention.  There are subtle (and not-so-subtle) tempo and rhythm changes that guide you all over the rock map, and even, briefly, as far away as South America and France.  Most memorable for this listener, though, are the layered vocal melodies and deep chord progressions that, for all the psychedelic spinning and rock attitude, bring something a little less expected to the genre – heart, spirit, and even beauty.

- Band Over Boston

I’ll confess that I’ve looked forward to this album ever since I first shared the stage with The Highway about three years ago.  Despite the years in between, the LP doesn’t disappoint.  This rock is pure and heartfelt; every unexpected chord means as much musically as do Tortoledo’s lyrics on brotherhood and strife, oneness and differences, despair and optimism. There are expanses of psychedelia that pull you down in the spirals on the backs of your eyelids before snarled-lip riff explosions that less demand than command attention.  There are subtle (and not-so-subtle) tempo and rhythm changes that guide you all over the rock map, and even, briefly, as far away as South America and France.  Most memorable for this listener, though, are the layered vocal melodies and deep chord progressions that, for all the psychedelic spinning and rock attitude, bring something a little less expected to the genre – heart, spirit, and even beauty.

- Band Over Boston

Psychedelic swirling lures, introducing Forest People with atmospheric effects, slide guitar and nebulous, distant vocals.  It builds softly before dropping dead into one crunchy, snarled-lip guitar lick.  The band kicks it aside with the verse, Daniel Tortoledo's vocals immediately in the high-register, the rhythm guitar jiving like 70's funk.  It's as hypnotizing an opener as this listener has encountered in a very long time.  But The Highway, much as the name suggests, isn't content to idle in one place.  "Frozen Sun" cruises away from a desert sunset and a troubled past; there's defeat in the lyrics, but it's accepted, calm, soothed by the breeze and the knowledge that tomorrow is a new day.  The title track reminds what a spell a well thought out chord progression and back-up vocals can weave - it's a stunning, down-tempo meditation.  "Song for the World" is utterly beautiful; if you're the type to let music touch you, this one will, and it's thanks to plumb ingenious song-writing:  An entrancingly bittersweet opening gives way to one hell of a surprising French interlude (yes, both linguistically and musically); the song loops back on itself, gaining weight and fleshing out, and by the end, you might not know whether to laugh, cry, or sing along - even though they've switched languages again, this time to Spanish.  Now, I know I'm a bit of a sap, but the raw emotionality of the record is worth noting because it's a field in which psychedelically-minded rock 'n roll rarely succeeds.  But it's rock and roll, after all, so fear not if you just want to put your fist in the air - there's attitude in abundance, sharp and edgy soloing, inspired rhythm changes; hell, there's even a sing-along drum-and-vocal break.  There's still some residue of the "rock is dead" prophesying, some grumbling that rock and roll is all, at this point, recycled goods, and that the new breed of rock is not really "rock" so much as indie, as experimental, as post-this or that-core.  Buy Forest People.  And then buy it for anyone you know who buys that sh*t.
- Cullen Corley - The Deli New England

Psychedelic swirling lures, introducing Forest People with atmospheric effects, slide guitar and nebulous, distant vocals.  It builds softly before dropping dead into one crunchy, snarled-lip guitar lick.  The band kicks it aside with the verse, Daniel Tortoledo's vocals immediately in the high-register, the rhythm guitar jiving like 70's funk.  It's as hypnotizing an opener as this listener has encountered in a very long time.  But The Highway, much as the name suggests, isn't content to idle in one place.  "Frozen Sun" cruises away from a desert sunset and a troubled past; there's defeat in the lyrics, but it's accepted, calm, soothed by the breeze and the knowledge that tomorrow is a new day.  The title track reminds what a spell a well thought out chord progression and back-up vocals can weave - it's a stunning, down-tempo meditation.  "Song for the World" is utterly beautiful; if you're the type to let music touch you, this one will, and it's thanks to plumb ingenious song-writing:  An entrancingly bittersweet opening gives way to one hell of a surprising French interlude (yes, both linguistically and musically); the song loops back on itself, gaining weight and fleshing out, and by the end, you might not know whether to laugh, cry, or sing along - even though they've switched languages again, this time to Spanish.  Now, I know I'm a bit of a sap, but the raw emotionality of the record is worth noting because it's a field in which psychedelically-minded rock 'n roll rarely succeeds.  But it's rock and roll, after all, so fear not if you just want to put your fist in the air - there's attitude in abundance, sharp and edgy soloing, inspired rhythm changes; hell, there's even a sing-along drum-and-vocal break.  There's still some residue of the "rock is dead" prophesying, some grumbling that rock and roll is all, at this point, recycled goods, and that the new breed of rock is not really "rock" so much as indie, as experimental, as post-this or that-core.  Buy Forest People.  And then buy it for anyone you know who buys that sh*t.
- Cullen Corley - The Deli New England