The word “lemuria” can mean many things. Lemuria is a Belgian band, for example, or was a religious holiday celebrated in ancient Rome, or is a song title recorded by a Swedish symphonic metal band that calls itself Therion, or the name of a mythical lost island. This latter definition is what interested Sheena Ozella and Alex Kearns from Buffalo, New York. They formed a band more than a dozen years ago, and that’s what they named it: Lemuria, after a land mass that never was.
Lemuria is one of those bands you’d expect to see in a place where there is no actual stage and the bands set up on the floor, such that the boundaries between musicians and audience are indistinct. Even though the band’s founders forged their skills as members of hardcore groups that resembled Hüsker Dü, the Lemuria of today is a feel-good indie-rock punk-pop hit band, but with few song hooks and a garage band’s sense of the disorganized. The one thing that jumps out at a listener is groove. After all those years together, Lemuria locks right into a loud, throbbing groove with plenty of punch. Which in and of itself is interesting, because the bass-player position in this trio has been a revolving door.
It turns out that Ozella and Kearns were an item for a while; that didn’t work out, but the songwriting and the performing did. They tried out bassists before settling on a Texan named Max Gregor. For years, Lemuria released seven-inchers, which a German label collected one day and combined into The First Collection, Lemuria’s first full-length. They got an indie-label deal, toured the planet, and released — slowly — a couple more full-lengths. There’s been no new music since 2013’s The Distance Is So Big. Violence, with a smile: if they ever re-make Fight Club, Lemuria’s my pick for the soundtrack.
The word “lemuria” can mean many things. Lemuria is a Belgian band, for example, or was a religious holiday celebrated in ancient Rome, or is a song title recorded by a Swedish symphonic metal band that calls itself Therion, or the name of a mythical lost island. This latter definition is what interested Sheena Ozella and Alex Kearns from Buffalo, New York. They formed a band more than a dozen years ago, and that’s what they named it: Lemuria, after a land mass that never was.
Lemuria is one of those bands you’d expect to see in a place where there is no actual stage and the bands set up on the floor, such that the boundaries between musicians and audience are indistinct. Even though the band’s founders forged their skills as members of hardcore groups that resembled Hüsker Dü, the Lemuria of today is a feel-good indie-rock punk-pop hit band, but with few song hooks and a garage band’s sense of the disorganized. The one thing that jumps out at a listener is groove. After all those years together, Lemuria locks right into a loud, throbbing groove with plenty of punch. Which in and of itself is interesting, because the bass-player position in this trio has been a revolving door.
It turns out that Ozella and Kearns were an item for a while; that didn’t work out, but the songwriting and the performing did. They tried out bassists before settling on a Texan named Max Gregor. For years, Lemuria released seven-inchers, which a German label collected one day and combined into The First Collection, Lemuria’s first full-length. They got an indie-label deal, toured the planet, and released — slowly — a couple more full-lengths. There’s been no new music since 2013’s The Distance Is So Big. Violence, with a smile: if they ever re-make Fight Club, Lemuria’s my pick for the soundtrack.
Cayetana and Mikey Erg also perform.
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