The Eeries

In the Internet era, where everything you ever needed to know about a band is a few clicks away, it’s almost refreshing that there’s very little information available on The Eeries. Here’s what we know: They’re a trio, they’re from Philadelphia, and they list The Beatles, Cult Ritual, and The Teeth as influences. It’s not that they’re trying to cultivate an air of mystique; their music carries the same jangle and shuffle as a band like Dr. Dog and is just as amiable. If anything, it seems as though the trio is too busy making music to promote it.
These days, lo-fi music is primarily an aesthetic choice, a defiant rejection of the easy accessibility of computer programs such as Pro Tools and Abelton which are made to help your records sound like you spent a million dollars to record it. For The Eeries, however, it seems more of a means to an end. Songs like “Johnny No” and “Ain’t it a Shame” are laconic garage-pop tunes with slurry vocals and tape hiss high in the mix, much like Brooklyn band The Beets, there’s an effortless pop sensibility and pitch-perfect harmonies that seems anachronistic. “Mavis” sounds like The Zombies on a 48-hour absinthe binge. When they speed up the tempo and up the jangle-factor on “Whoa”, they lock in on a groove that perfectly encapsulates the beachiness that most of the new bands in current indie rock fall short of.
In a landscape where droves of 60s-inspired bands are trying to prove they’re worth their weight in girl-group 45s, The Eeries flourish simply by playing it straight. - Passion of the Weiss

Here's some more scruffy 21st century doo wop that'd make Del Shannon lull and roll in his grave, gently.

We recently covered an EP by The Eeries, and those played out some garage-minded mirages just as lazily and effortlessly, though it all rested on a slightly thinner down comforter than these warm, light-hearted dazes. - Impose Magazine

Not enough perfectly lazy garage pop has graced my ears this summer, so The Eeries are a slow moving gust of musty old wind that came just in time to warm this chilly atmosphere. The July heat waves are over, so let's hear it for The Eeries.

The trio's from Philly and sound like the kind of backyard stool philosophers who'd get along fine with Queens pigeons the Beets or Ritchie Valens' zombie spirit, or a sizzurp'd Monster Mash block party since they're called The Eeries and have some album art that'd make a great B movie.

They have EPs for free down in their blog by the river here. - Impose Magazine