As we filed in to catch Mississippi-based Young Buffalo at an Austin shot bar, the gentleman next to me leaned over to divulge his excitement about the set. Unsolicited stranger love generally bodes well for new acts, so my enthusiasm jumped from like a 5 to a 7 immediately. Turned out the stranger was actually the band’s manager or something, but his predictions proved correct regardless; by the last song, I was pretty close to a 9 (which, to be fair, usually requires a laser light show).
I kept thinking about how familiar the band name sounded, and turns out our boy Sean was gushing about his Mississippi brethren almost a year ago. He didn’t think once was enough, so then he gushed about them again. The fact that I didn’t immediately invest all my emotions into Young Buffalo leaves me feeling a lot like this. Forgive me, Sean.
At one point, their manager-or-something excitedly elbowed me to let me know that their next song was “the one I’d fall in love with.” Sure enough, “Catapilah” made me wish it was possible to buy a song a drink, because damned if I wouldn’t have slid a shot of whiskey straight down the proverbial bar. Imagine if Vampire Weekend soothed the abrasiveness out of Animal Collective while they all drove through the mountains in a busted RV, and you’ll be on the right track.