Originally formed in 1996, KOLS has covered a lot of ground over the last 18 years. From lo-fi Eric's Trip-inspired four track garbly gook about frontman Ben Barnett's feelings to what has essentially become in recent years, in Barnett's words, "a Wu Tang obsessed, Post punk, Stoner metal, Robot dancing jazz trio just tryin' to make its way".
Ben Barnett, the core element of Kind of Like Spitting, is an astounding guitarist and songwriter, and has a punk rock heart and mind. His tours have often made stops in basements, houses, and unofficial venues, sometimes as a blistering full band but more often as singer Barnett and guitar. His work ethic, politics, and the aesthetic of his DIY influences (including Minor Threat/Fugazi, Minutemen, Descendents and the like) is audible in the music he creates.
Recorded by John Goodmanson (Sleater Kinney, Team Dresch, Unwound, Wu-Tang Clan, Low), Bridges Worth Burning is the clear pinnacle of the band's body of work to date, and heralds a new era for what might be the most intriguing and original voice to come out of the mostly-stagnant indie-punk-emo scene in a very long time.
More beautiful sad songs from Kind Of Like Spitting. This newly remastered cd has three extra tracks on it, including an early version of afraid of crushes.
With songs ranging from quiet laments to acoustic pop tunes to all-out rock, Kind Of Like Spitting shines once again on this Jealous Butcher release. Vinyl only.
It is far from hyperbolic to enthusiastically assert that this albumBlunt Mechanic's firstis Ben Barnett's finest work to date. Considering the critically-acclaimed and cultishly-followed body of work he has amassed over the past 15 years recording as Kind of Like Spitting, one could be forgiven for dismissing that claim before having heard the onslaught of impeccably constructed songs, unstoppable, charming guitar hooks, heart-wrenching, moving, uplifting storytelling, brilliant turns of phrase and vocal/instrumental interplay that collectively define world record. After more than a decade of musical exploration and a hiatus during which he dealt with and largely overcame some pretty serious hard knocks, Barnett started recording again on his cassette 8-track, in his spare time with a fresh and heretofore-uncharacteristic joyful perspective, and made an album that is the culmination of his creative and emotional life. He gave copies of the vivid, powerful lo-fi results (from stoney, sludgy grooves to plaintive acoustic expressions of gratitude) to friends. Friends smiled; Barnett smiled, we were happy to be among the friends he shared the songs with; copious hi-fives were smacked.