The bulk of the songs on The Sundelles' debut full-length, "Georgia Swan," carry a specific message with them and we think it's, "Times are tough and I'm young enough that I'll just sleep it out. This is me doing my best not to get carried away with thinking about too much of the hard stuff. I'm sort of disturbed by it all and miserable enough as it is to add one more thing to my platter." It could be paraphrasing, or it could be drawing conclusions from garage rock and roll music that has to bleed that sour wine or it's not actually anything to care about -- even if the caring is done in an I'm-not-caring-over-here way. It's got to have that youthful grumble. The disgruntled young man has to be around or else people think you're just luckier than they are and you'll find that you have nothing to talk about at parties. You'd better be complaining about your job, your rent, your folks, your boyfriend/girlfriend and how much you have left to pay on your student loans, or you're not really living. You should be considering a life of just selling off all of your earthly possessions and getting the fuck out of here. Go on a mission, somewhere that will force you to "find" yourself and return to this thankless society a person impermeable to the havoc and the shitty vibes. You should be considering something easier, that quiet life of the penniless and threadbare townie who, while never accumulating any financial gain/assets that anyone could speak of, is off to a great start in the relaxed, pedestrian life of friends, drinks, books and barely getting by, but living like they mean it.
Sundelles lead singer, Sam Sundos, isn't afraid of making it known that his place to be -- the place that he'd like to be most hours of the day -- is at his own home, shut away from a lot of the awfulness and the wrong-doing. There are enough things that happen within his songs that make you think that he values time when it flies, if only because it means that it's not able to work its dark burn on him, it's not able to own him. He sounds like he should be a West Coast beach bum, a surfer living in a terrible bachelor pad or a bungalow right along the salty water, a place that he could just roll out of bed and have sand in his shoes, or sticking to the bottoms of his bare feet already. He's a daydreamer who hates that he loses them when he has to open those eyes and focus during those daylight hours, to do the things that have to pay the rent and buy the food. It's a rebellious kick in the teeth to the unfortunate reality of often having to do things that you don't want to do -- things that other people are telling you to do -- simply to survive. The Sundelles would love to just cut all of those marionette strings and go walking off into the sunset, on those wobbly wooden legs. They probably wouldn't get to far, just into their front door where, in the entryway, they'll weakly drop their coat and keys, shoes, anything else they have in hand and crash onto the couch for some television watching or a nap. It's their brand of personal heroism, escaping from or avoiding the dregs at any cost. Sleeping will work wonders.