The last essay that I wrote about Los Angeles band Hands was mostly about circumstances - first impressions and what it took to get them here. It touched, at the very end, on how they were a band that made you feel as if you might be getting too much sun. Its music didn't make you stop or even want to stop taking in all that sun, but rather forced you to acknowledge that your neck was cooking, good and slowly. It was going to be red and sore later, but that was a price that you were willing to pay, as long as they kept playing. The band makes you believe that you're closer to an ocean than you actually are. They can give you that salty air or they could make you smell that freshwater mist of worms, fish, boats and mud. Hands still makes you feel the sunshine in all of its moves, but there's more to it on the band's Kill Rock Stars debut full-length, "Synesthesia." The sun and all of the other elements have been refined and given even more texture than they used to have. These songs are more reminiscent of refurbished sunshine - those warm days that are deceptively cool when you're out of the direct light. These are those days that come to you with contemplation, with a strong whiff of body odor because the time has just gotten away from you. You need to catch up on some things - laundry and regular meals. You've been dazed and certainly confused by the whirlwind that wasn't even recognized as a whirlwind, when it was happening. You were caught up and you've found that you've been able to wrest your legs free and regain some fluidity. These are the thoughts that get thick and wooly around the twilight hours and they get heavier with the wine and the dinner. They begin to sink in, while walking the meal off afterward.