Theee Retail Simps (AKA Thee Retail Simps, Tha Retail Simps) are a band from Montreal, (that's Montreal, Canada for any geographically ill-informed readers). A band who don't want you to hear their whole discography in one go. If they did, their naming conventions would be a tad more consistent - at least, one would think so. Nearly the whole mess of tunes is there on spotify, with the notable omission of the single Rubble, a garage rager, packed onto a 7" with a cheeky Rolling Stones cover entitled "Jumpin Jack Off".
With what one could only label consumer-grade reject gear, the scraps if you will, Theee Retail Simps, pisspoor capitalists that they are, crank out a whole lot with very little. Their first record, Reverberant Scratch: 9 Shots In tha Dark is certified excellent by a lot of other folks who enjoy the musings of the Velvet Underground and other regular suspect garage nuggets. Their even more unhinged follow-up to that record, Live On Cool Street, is out now on bandcamp.
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The opener, "Wrong Direction", is a jangly tune, accompanied by The Strokes-esque distorted vocals that are a recognizable Retail Simps trademark by this point. The record opens to fits and starts of keys, backing singers, and horns atop a base layer of dusty guitars and a warm slap of drums. "The River" is, unfortunately for me, not a demented noise-rock rendition of Bruce Springsteen's rock classic. It is, however, a momentary dose of smoother Simps work, quickly torn asunder by howling, ranting vocals and waves of thudding drums.
"Keeper Of The Fire" follows up the animal sounds at the end of "The River" with something more akin to a warped old Sam & Dave 7 inch, groovy but twisted, swanky but as warped as it is cool. The Blues Brothers would absolutely attempt to cover this song - not terribly well, but they'd try. It's the sort of thing you hear in a film while a side character goes for a night out on the town without the lead - bright lights, big sights, but something missing you could put your finger on if you were paying a little more attention a couple minutes ago. The record's whole front half is uniquely odd and off-putting, lo-fi and packed to the gills with earworms, and the loose ties that bind the package together snap entirely at the end of "Keeper Of The Fire". This band plays so loose they're more like a perpetual jam, a collective, or a body of work with a mind entirely its own. I wholeheartedly endorse this brand of chaos, though,

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