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"Laylights at Southpark Fest"

"Denver band Laylights absolutely blew me away. They're already getting compared to U2 and Broken Social Scene, and you'll be hearing of them soon enough...Best things about South Park this year? Laylights..." - Abby White - Performing Songwriter

"Denver Post Reverb"

"The Laylights' unrelenting set Feb. 7 at Forest Room 5 made an airtight case for rock 'n' roll as an Olympic sport. The Denver band is fearless, and this show showcased its manic dexterity and epic sound. Playing the unusual Highlands bar as part of the Rockstars Are Dead! floating club night, The Laylights reigned over the large crowd like a dictator with his finger on the button. The vibe inside the bar was warm, but the band's '60's-influenced garage meld tore through the space with an odd and unexpected chill. It was a potent blast and the ideal midnight lead-in to Peter Black's increasingly popular club night." - Ricardo Baca - Denver Post

"Reverb: Laylights CD release @ bluebird"

One of the more encouraging things about the Denver music scene lately has been not just the amount of bands calling the city home, but the fact that an increasing chunk are playing at a national level. That isn’t to say all of them have achieved that profile yet, only that they’ve proven themselves ready for (and largely worthy of) serious attention.
These are bands that have played tons of shows, released fussed-over recordings, and honed their sound so much that one could see them playing “Late Night with Conan O’Brien,” nabbing a Spin article or getting signed by a tastemaker indie label. In other words, unique voices that provide aural substance as they develop creatively — not just a bunch of haircuts and tapered-leg jeans that figured out how to make their guitars sound like mutilated cats.
Granted, every city has its dusty gems (and writers are often swift to overblow every little triumph in a scene, misrepresenting its tone and momentum), but relative to the size of the city, Denver is top-heavy with great acts.
Indie quartet Laylights is one of them, a good-getting-better band overflowing with hooks and appeal that nonetheless escapes some local music lovers’ attention. The group celebrated the release of its new “Auricle” EP Saturday at the Bluebird Theater with a concise, visually dizzying show.
Laylights next took the stage in, appropriately, low light before launching into “Auricle” lead-off track “Tigers.” The swirling, feedback-laden intro quickly twisted into a column of stuttering drums and guitar, singer Tyler Hayden guiding the rest of the members through melodies that split the difference between the glammy, New Romantic turns of the Killers and U.K. post-punk fiends Futureheads.
Familiar, but well-rendered.
The “widescreen rock” descriptor is an overused one, but it’s also appropriate for Laylights. Maybe it’s the big skies and rocky vistas of our state that inspires such epic-quality songs. Maybe it’s the BITF effect. Either way, it’s pretty damned cool. Cinematic and expansive, Laylights effortlessly cobbles bits of U2, Radiohead, Interpol (especially the cymbal-heavy beats) and others into its wide sound.
The bearded, baby-faced Hayden possesses a voice that’s somewhere between croon and howl, and most songs give him a chance to visit both. The band also knows how to set the right mood: A smoke machine pumped out copious amounts of it, giving the unusually atmospheric, Pink Floyd-esque light show a place to play.
Tight but mildly businesslike, the members’ performance never wasted time or attention. When guitarist Ian McCumber broke a string on “You,” he soldiered through heedlessly instead of letting it deflect his focus. It’s something any good band would do, but really, we’re lucky to have so many of them here. - Denver Post/ John Wenzel


Auricle (April 2008)
Laylights - Laylights (self-titled EP2006)



A Laylights Biography
By R. J. Weisman.

We have arrived.

Four men approach a door in the back of an electronics repair store. Past the door lie stairs, and beyond the stairs lies a room the size of a fallout shelter. The hallway floor is littered with cigarette butts, empty beer cans, and dead handbills blended to the floor by hard white neon light. The room they are after is completely undecorated, save a drab French watercolor on the far wall. The only light comes from holiday lights seized from dumpsters and the dull glow of a computer monitor. Cabinets of speakers surround the room wanting to be heated by an electric hum.

Three times a week these four men make their pilgrimage to this underground lair in hopes of creating light and wonder, in an otherwise dark hollow space.

These men are Laylights. Each bringing their spirit and dreams, memories of loves had and lost, their own successes and failures. From this ether of existence they draw and release the elements that eventually become songs both delicate yet forceful. All encompassing life, transposed through music.

The birds do chirp.