Voxtrotting
I’m smiling big on the drive to work today. And I’m listening to Voxtrot’s latest EP and I’m not caring about anything, because this album is feeling like Xanax to me, only without the comedown. And I’m daydreaming about buying a hot-air balloon

Austin, TX’s Voxtrot are gaining critical acclaim despite having yet to release a full-length album.or maybe pulling over and making myself a picnic or something. And I’m wondering if these five dudes know a secret they’re not telling the rest of us. I’m wondering what could that secret be, and why wouldn’t they let me in on it? I’m thinking it’s because they don’t know who I am, probably.
I’m already planning on adding them to MySpace and sending them stalker messages. I’m thinking I hope I can meet these guys and drink beer with them. I’m thinking maybe we can talk about Vonnegut or Palahniuk. Or maybe buy lollipops and go to the beach. Build sandcastles.
I’m wondering why don’t these guys sound like they’re from Austin. Where’s the edge. This is indie pop, I’m thinking. I’m thinking of Frank Black and Belle & Sebastian or something. I’m smiling because they are rhyming work with work. I’m smiling because these songs are so divine. And I’m smothered in syrupy hooks and probably almost driving into other cars because I’m too happy to pay attention.
I’m not caring about that.
I’m wondering why the beginning of “Four Long Days” sounds familiar. And then I’m turning it back to track 1. I’m hoping it doesn’t end this time.
I’m almost to work and I’m wishing I wasn’t, because I’m feeling pretty blissful. I’m wishing there are more than five songs on this EP. I’m wishing and wishing.
soon discovered that they shared a fierce (perhaps fanatical) love for music. So the two humble boys formed a band, which they decided to call Bears. The two humble boys began playing music and decided to make the most beautiful bedroom pop record ever written. They released this album of exquisite, morose, dreamy pop music before they ever even played a live show.

Neil Young is cool, but I’m only 24 — I wasn’t even alive during Vietnam. And the 60s were awhile ago. Don’t get me wrong — I love old music, but usually only when the dude (or dudette) is dead. That’s how I can love The Velvet Underground & Nico but wish for death before seeing a Rolling Stones show. It’s why I cherish my Pixies records and it’s the same reason I would kill my own family before seeing them live after their reunion.