The Orientalists

The Orientalists


Do you like to sleep in cars? Do you perform at your best when you are flat broke working two jobs and have barely had any sleep? Do you find your friendships are cemented through bloodshed and fisticuffs? Then you my friend are ready to witness the apocalyptic fury of the Orientalists.


Brought together by an interest in the esoteric, enigmatic and eastern, this fearless foursome has assembled 6 songs in their first self-titled and prophetic manifesto. Their meaning is clear, but the message is veiled in the garb of heavy rock-n-roll. Like a caravan of gypsies invading your town or heavy rock sheikhs out on a raid, their style is both angry and uplifting, accusatory and full of praise, serenely lucid yet obscenely delirious. It is an absolutely delicious concoction.

Front and center, the Farfisa organ is delivered hot and steamy... yet quite palatable. It is a classic Rock sound somehow not overly retro, in this case forward looking, almost futuristic. This is flavor not used sparingly when sprinkled throughout this dish. It is a sound for the ears of those adepts in the upper echelons of the Mysteries.

The Orientalists meticulously weave a thick rug of sound. The guitar and bass, with purpose yet not in unison, seem to mesh as they twist and intertwine. They create a matrix of streaming consciousness. Culinarists might call it a bouillabaisse or gumbo.

Driving the backbone, the asynchronous, illusive beat is more like a call to arms, whipping the masses into a fanatical fury. Rhythmically, the listener is pounded with a backbeat as solid as the backbone of a dinosaur. (This is feeding time). This band is dynamic as well. We're talking M80's and K88's.

The Orientalists are a wrecker of engines. A sonic assault on your oppressive, decrepit regimes. A proclamation calling for the return to the old rites and mysteries of the ancients. A feast fit for the farewell of kings.

When the Orientalists are cool, they deliver Bowie style disco or prom-rock in the fashion of King Crimson. Not stylistically punk, fashion conscious or TV approved... a sort of dead guy in the trunk. They found their droning carpet sound at a furniture store in the Bronx. The Orientalists lionize the Lo-Fi and shun the pre-packaged. Like a trumpet of modernity blasting down the Walls of your Rock paradigm. Listen to this band not on your iPod, but rather on an old Walkman or a Denon stereo, or better yet a Victrola.

Regardless, you will find the sounds are frequently raw, yet suddenly quiet and Sphinx-like. Don't be surprised when you are suddenly engulfed by their blistering storm. It is all part of their subtle ruse to leave you helpless when they attack like marauding hordes with an army of Rock volume.

Orientalist songs are both well crafted and intense. The Orientalists cook with flavorings of stray lyrics from Rock heroes and enigmatic references to ancient occult formulas. At first listen, you might miss the passing omens, the apocalyptic visions of disdain. Later, you find yourself humming the lyrics to yourself and in a moment of realization note, I knew there was more to this life than whoring and vain jangling.¡× They're jingling baby.

Are you prepared to brawl with this group? Then prepare for the day when the earth is rent asunder (40) and all you're left with is the taste of blood in your mouth from the kick drum.


Pretty Friend

Written By: The Orientalists

i'm not going there by myself
i'm walking with a pretty friend of mine
i dont care about much time
but it's getting late
and the box seat's made of pine

then i'm leaving there by myself
were we be dead? were we watching a movie?
i'm not sure if i liked that way
but sometimes though, the rain propels the sky

then i'm calling a cab because my stomach feels small
then there's a break in the clouds
and i've got no taste at all
yeah it could've been me
why didn't i stay
why didn't i say?
why didn't i?

then i'm sitting on a doorstep
trying to play

The Doll

Written By: The Orientalists

there's jack and his filthy money
dressed as a nerd on halloween
i'm disappointed sacco and vanzetti
just couldn't make the scene

and thank god i've got all my toes and my fingers
thank god i've got all my toes and my fingers now

there's a queen and her tawdry money
dressed like a queen on halloween
i'll dance again with raggedy ann
i think she lives on my street

and thank god i've got all my toes and my fingers
thank god i've got all my toes and my fingers now

i might have to kick, i might have to poke
i might have to knock cigars that you smoke
right out

(and we said)
thank god for filthy money
thank god for filthy money
thank god for filthy money
thank god for filthy money

sales and marketing queens and kings
punch in and out your needles and pins
without a care in the world for boys and girls
whose hair you clipped and stuck on

whose hair you clipped and stuck onto the doll

Deploy Muffler

Written By: The Orientalists

time slips away so slowly now
and time, it means so much
so little now
a riddle now

there are lips sinking ships in her purse
it's the curse of the saturday saints
climb onboard, grab a couch
it's the curse of your latter days

i dont know why
and it's got to come around
another try and it's got to come around

don't walk away
i'm moving homeward bound

there are joints in her hand at her command
in a niagara frontier romance
climb onboard, grab a couch
i'm flying on the miss buffalo tonight

time time time
time time time time


Orientalists - Dec 2006

Set List

The Doll, Deploy Muffler, Razor, Jinglin Baby, Procession, FUITW, Green Canteen, Pretty Friend, Street Fightin Man (cover)