NPR, you’re alright in my book. They know their music, and I’m hooked.
“The L.A.-based quintet — Taylor Rice, Kelcey Ayers, Ryan Hahn, Andy Hamm and Matt Frazier — plays buoyant, infectious songs that brim with sunny melodies and three-part harmonies sung with gentle grace. Local Natives’ joyful mix of inventive indie-rock arrangements, clattering Afrobeat rhythms and euphoric chamber-pop harmonies may be what invites listeners in, but the lyrics contain just as much depth and nuance.”
“Moments before performing, Adele breezed up to our makeshift stage with little fanfare, and proceeded to blaze through her set without so much as bothering to take off her gloves. Between songs, she showcased the mile-wide chasm between her mesmerizing singing voice and her far less polished speaking voice, occasionally even unleashing a truly magnificent cackle. At 22, Adele still isn’t quite fully formed as an artist — which, after witnessing this set, is really saying something. She may well get even better, and even now, she’s a marvel.”
“The music makes a lot of people uncomfortable and thrills others. They’re funny. They’re loud. They’re lewd, nihilistic and disrespectful. The group raps about rape frequently. They give all of their music away for free. They curse constantly and use every slur you can think of. The beats they make and rhyme over are painfully aggressive, chest-rattling, undeniable. It’s not easy to tell when the group is being serious, and when they’re mocking you. Their music is alive — it punches you in the face. If you’re over forty; have kids and are white, they don’t like you.”