Song of the Day: La Di Da by Victorian Halls



Weekends look up from the ground
is this my sophomore sound?
Come, keep breathing, tell me oh, just what you want to do
With all these empty bottles of NyQuil and all your problems
‘Cause your clean nose got some bad blow but you’re okay

Strawberry lips do pre-tell
Sign the card, “Sweetie, get well”
And come, keep breathing
Tell me oh, just how I want it

It’s just I feel, it’s just I feel okay
It’s how I do, it’s how I do when you’re away but don’t tell
‘Cause I’m a hard sell so don’t tell I’m okay
La, di, da, da, da, da, da, da, da

I’m catching lightening on my sheets, dialing your digits
You saw me on my vaca, how could I forget
It’s okay, I.D. me, I’m joking, ya catch me on my cell
(What a filth)

As those hips tend to fell
Sign the car, “Meet me in the hotel”
And come, keep breathing
Tell me oh, just how you want it

And if you need the weekend take it, I could get away
If you think that we could make it
If our view would sway
All the subtext in the lobby says to pick and choose who settles

So come, keep breathing
Tell me oh, just how you want it

La, di, da, da, da, da, da, da, da
Da, da, da, da, da, da, dah
La, da, da, da, da, da, da, da
Da, da, da, da, da, da, dah


“The Chicago four-piece have an uncanny knack for constructing gleaming, crystalline, compact pop gems … and then going after them with an axe like Jack Nicholson. They build the museum-worthy sculpture, and then dash it to the ground, manically laughing their heads off the whole time. It’s the musical equivalent of a Pollock painting – a vibrant, technicolor, utterly uninhibited work devised by either a genius or a madman. It’s hard to discern which, and it doesn’t much matter anyway. The poet laureates of Chicago’s skid row, VICTORIAN HALLS are the rare type of band that exist in the little space where art and punk meet – the type of band that can blend unadulterated pop songwriting with wailing Banshee-like vocals to create a strangely magical, vaudevillian wonder like their new seven song EP, Springteen. “We write pop songs,” singer/guitarist Sean Lenart plainly states, “but they’re really noisy and lyrically overt, and kind of jarring. It’s not simply generalized feelings over familiar chord progressions… Basically, your mother wouldn’t like this band.” Then again, nobody’s mother liked THE BEATLES when they first landed either. The result speaks for itself. In the Spin Magazine-sponsored Music Nation contest, the band made quite the impression, finishing second out of thousands of entries, and in doing so garnered praise from some big names – Perry Farrell of JANE’S ADDICTION called VICTORIAN HALLS’ music a “high-strung theatrical sound … punchy and tight, the sound of Saturday night.” CURSIVE’S Tim Kasher praised the band’s “theatrical style,” while Spin editor Doug Brod noted a “twisted carnivalesque quality.” The band also nabbed second prize on MTV2’s “On The Rise” contest, despite receiving over 126,000 votes – both amazing accomplishments for a band that makes TRL-worthy songs and then burns them to the ground. In a city that spawned FALL OUT BOY, THE PLAIN WHITE T’S, and THE ACADEMY IS…, VICTORIAN HALLS have learned that making art for art’s sake doesn’t always earn you a date with Ashlee Simpson, but does get you a boatload of critical acclaim and a rabid fan base that sticks by you for all the right reasons. And frankly, when you’re in a band that sounds way more like THE BLOOD BROTHERS than THE JONAS BROTHERS, you define success in entirely different terms. Terms like, in Lenart’s words, “Being able to piss people of by not wearing eye liner, playing a packed venue and being the only unsigned band there and then having people lining up to take pictures and sign autographs, convincing people that if white pants worked in ‘A Clockwork Orange,’ they can work for anyone …” Appropriately enough, “A Clockwork Orange” may just be the best metaphor for VICTORIAN HALLS – a bunch of musical droogs wandering the streets of America, committing acts of musical ultraviolence for their own pleasure (not to mention the pleasure of their ever-increasing fanbase). Of course, sometimes the ultraviolence takes on a more literal definition. As was the case with “Clockwork’s” infamous “aversion technique,” it’s damn near impossible to take your eyes of VICTORIAN HALLS for one second. Nor would you want to, because if they don’t bludgeon you, their music surely will.”

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