With their third release, pleasure suck, Philadelphia, PA's The Spirit of the Beehive continue to slowly rot your brain with sad, beautiful pop songs and sweet melodies buried under noisy, psychedelic rock. Traversing the ghostly back-roads of indie rock with hypnotizing results, there's a certain air of mysteriousness that surrounds the band and their music.
Detached yet full engaged, The Spirit of the Beehive seem to float back and forth between fantasy and reality. Vocals are often buried and distorted. Songs evolve slowly and dissipate quickly, yet linger in the air long after they are gone. Shifting between ambiance and lo-fi pop, with fits of noise in between, the band's attention to detail and mood are impressive.
What emerges from the darkness is a band that seems impossible to explain or categorize, yet fully engrossing. Experimental and ambitious without sacrificing melody, The Spirit of the Beehive are that rare band that may always be difficult to describe but never fail to make a lasting impression, even if you aren't quite sure what the hell you just witnessed.