Welcome back to Flashion Forward, a new UI feature in which we endeavor to explore the ever-expanding universe of sonic style. Each week, we’ll pluck a recently added interview from our warehouse of current clips and try to read between the artist’s sartorial lines. Today, we’re investigating the sweet, neat, petite Here We Go Magic.
The newish band, conceived and born in the still respectably gritty Greenpoint, Brooklyn, has turned making do into an art form: their self-titled debut was recorded at home, in stream-of-consciousness writing/composing mode with their trusty, if not exactly high-tech, analog synths. The result is a philosophical, dreamy but strangely danceable and totally narcotic album that will likely please fans of living room dance parties stocked with PBR and those who favor patchouli-scented tambourine-tappin’ boho fests in Prospect Park.
The something-for-everyone vibe extends to their disparate takes on le dernier cri – a superskinny, gorgeously mop-topped tall, dark and handsome man who looks like he shops the vintage racks in Paris (check!); impish blue-eyed blond with dimples and a naughty glint in his eye with a soigné cardigan on his back (check!); a man in black (check!); long-tressed hipster chick who was probably born strapped into a pair of skinny jeans and a complicated-looking black top that looks super expensive but you just know she totally got it for a song (double check!).
As the band prepares for official take-off, they look at a road littered with pink slips and terminations. It’s a good thing their music doesn’t suck, because they ain’t making it at Tower Records, bakeries, florists or as personal assistants.
TOPICS: Flashion Forward, Queequeg