Frances Dean do not have an instagram account, a tumblr or an impressive budget. They lack irony, industry connections, expensive gear. And no, they’re not that other type either—playing for beer money or squatting with the crust punks on the LES. But they have talent. They have catchy songs for days. They have fun.
If you’re looking for a lo-fi act named after some endangered worm, or a timid trio to play your next cat-themed un-birthday party, Frances Dean will disappoint. If you want specificity, they send their apologies. But if you want a band that’s surprisingly fresh in an aural era of tired sounds, rehashed lyrics, and over-the-top band promotion, Frances Dean is at your service.
Part 90’s grunge, part future rock, Frances Dean is what happens when you leave a twenty-first century baby unattended at a party full of misfits. This is a band whose live shows satisfy the punk and the dancer alike. Try to stand still as their songs drive you from high school heartbreak to interplanetary battlefields. Try not to stomp your feet, try not to sing along to every chorus, to fall for the front man, carry the bassline home with you.
Slightly nostalgic, ultra-melodic, Frances Dean will leave you winded and wanting more.