Rubblebucket
Psst! Hey, you, buddy? Yeah, you, the guy in the green shirt, come on over here. So, you look lost. What are you up to tonight? What are you looking for? It seems like you could use a little guidance, some assistance, ya know? Perhaps, I could be of service to you and the lady over there. Is she with you? Yeah, she’s a looker. You’re a lucky man. What’s that? You’re looking for a good party, something that’s going to feel crazy at times, perfectly normal at others and still feel odd and dangerous enough that the fire alarms might get set off if everything goes the way it’s supposed to? I think I might know where you could go to score a little of that, but you’ll have to pay close attention.
You got Google Maps on that phone of yours? Plug in Rubblebucket in that destination bar and find that route. It’s a bit of a roving location so it moves around quite a lot, so I can’t just point you there, but that gadget should be able to do it. You’re not going to regret it. It’s a bit of a hike, but the good things shouldn’t come so easily.
Wherever you find the New York-based band, you’ll get immersed in a twisted world of bright, colorful meldings of familiar sounds and bizarre new ideas about men from mars coming down, eating you and then eating all the cars and bars he can find.
Lead singer Annakalmia Traver is hard to figure out, though it almost seems as if she’s something like Andre 3000 or Nikki Minaj in her dealings—not necessarily her delivery. It feels charged by stream of consciousness details and plotlines, going off the rails here and there, but never in a disruptive way, as the backing music brought to life by the eight-piece band is spot-on, while still being adventuresome and intriguing.
Traver sings, “White lights going through my mind,” repetitively at the end of the song, “Caverns,” and we feel like we can see them too. We like how they strobe the hell out. We see them as sustenance.