Watch Out For Rockets won’t lower your electric bill.

As the sweltering Austin summer rolls in, dips at Barton Springs can only do so much to liven the oppressively hot days, and moist, stagnant nights. Escape from the heat, for many Austin musicians, often means a slowing of the music scene to a casual lope; those brave enough to perform put on their best face as they pit-stain t-shirts and drip buckets of alcohol ripe sweat all over an empty stage front as their adoring admirers crowd around fans that promise limited relief. It’s at such a time last year that the band Watch Out For Rockets, holed up in their living room turned practice space, recorded their latest release, Beasts with Hearts of Gold.

The album, packed with 19 some-odd songs, is the whimsical, eclectic follow-up to their headier 2008 debut album Let Me Levitate.  And though the short, lo-fi pop ditties were all recorded on a 4-track in their homebrew DIY recording studio, what’s sacrificed in recording quality and perfection is paled by substance and artisan.

The group is a testament to the appeal of the indie music scene in Austin. Front-man David T. Jones and fellow Wisconsinites Aaron Rimbey (half-brother) and Lucas Urbanski relocated in December 2003, in hopes of honing their musical abilities in the potpourri of Austin’s creative influence. Thrown off by the intense traffic and their not-so-glamorous residence off 2222, Austin wasn’t exactly what the guys expected.   “The summer really sucked. It was really hot,” Jones notes, a no shit moment for resident Texans.  And strolling with the customary gate of any bona fide Texas resident, the band didn’t get their act together until 2008, when Jones found himself homeless and indebted to Rimbey and Urbanski for occupying their living room.  Jones slept on the couch by night and recorded by day, each song an offering to repay their hospitality.  In the end, Jones conceived and recorded the majority of the songs and instrumentation, while Rimbey and Urbanski helped to polish what would be Beasts.

For people like me, who aren’t really in-touch with the woes and throws of the musical creation process, WOFR’s may seem like a goofy, bizarre experimental undertaking, some of their songs impossible to wrap your mind around and appreciate upon first listen.  Beasts with Hearts of Gold is the sort of thing that grows on you, like that boy in middle school you gave the customary go around with just to secure your presence at the Winter Solstice Sock-hop.  You soon fell head over heels, despite the backne, crooked teeth, and math ineptitude, and in a rush of hormones and idyllic childhood fantasies, you knew you guys would be together forever.  Though he summarily dumped you for Vicky Haggins (who at the time was the only girl in school handing out BJs,) that pre-teen surge of emotion carved a special place in your heart.  Listening to Beasts will take you to that happy magical time when everything was just right, and though a few notes of regret and sorrow may foray into the memories, it is, at worst, poignantly bittersweet.

Image Courtesy of Stacey L. Wilhelm’s Facebook Upload

The group has recently acquired drummer John Terhaar with the hopes of plugging their existence at shows around Austin.  With their last show being their third performance at Beauty Bar and their fourth all-together, my only wish is that they manage to break away from that scene and play to people who might actually be able to conjure appreciation without fear of mussing up their musical reputation.  With their GBV inspired quirkiness and lackadaisical views of current Austin music trends, that may a lofty ambition.

http://myspace.com/wofr

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Things to Do: buy their album, watch this animated music video of sorts I made for them

Things to Make: An account at Lala.com and listen to their album online (as well as any other album at least once, I think that’s raaaaaad).

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After a glowing, love-struck school-girl review from a first time music blogger (and likely one-time), I think it’s fair to disclose a conflict of interest as I’m actually romantically involved with Jones, the handsome, charming, insanely talented musical all-star. Before you discredit my account as love induced, eager-to-please garbage, I’d like to insist that I too was once a single lady in Austin, and I quickly learned to add “musician” as a point of disinterest in grooming my potential hookups. As a girl who smiled blankly at the bassist at the bar rambling about the three bands he graced with his talent, I think the staying power in our relationship is a testament to my complete appreciation of what he’s got going on. In the end, even if I’m still beholden, it’s not like I’m using him for his money.