Sarolea

You hit play—another band coming through your inbox. You immediately perk up. “This is good,” you think. “This reminds me of something.” It’s something familiar, but also fresh. Something you know but you’re excited to hear again. An acquaintance on the subway who you’re excited to run in to. You scroll to the email that the song came in and open it up. The band is called SAROLEA. There are four guys in the band, and they call NYC home. You keep reading. They’ve been poking around New York for at least a decade. The list of bands they’ve been in is modest, but not unheard of: The Mourges, Let Me Run, Robbin’ Pain, Pop Girls Etc, and the singer’s time fronting a bar-band under his own name, Dan Maxwell. Their names run past your field of vision, Scott Borchert, Tom Galton, Steve Grywalski and then Maxwell again. The thing that really jumps out at you is their in- fluences—Paul Westerberg, The Pernice Brothers, Teenage Fanclub, Elvis Costello, REM—all names you’ve heard, but that stand out from the flock. You realize that you hear these sounds shining through your headphones. Is that why it’s so familiar? It’s good—that’s all that matters to you. “Re- ally good.” You click on the link to their website—www.saroleanyc.com—you start clicking around. You just missed their first appearance, a headlining slot at Maxwell’s in Hoboken. “Who are these guys?” You decide it still doesn’t matter, because it is so good. You see the link to sign up for their mailing list. *Click.* You sign up. You decide you can’t miss the next performance. You forward it to your friends. You go back to your iTunes and hit play again.