Guards - Destroyer

Where the hell were Guards back in 2010 when this kind of indie rock ruled my world? I mean, let’s just make it as personal as possible, right? Me, back in the day: when I was digging mega-hard on bands like The Drums and Girls with catchy tunes, jangly guitars and quirky frontmen— But where were Guards? The answer of course, was that they were there the whole time, right in front of my stupid, uninformed eyes. Frontman Richie James Folin, brother of Madeline Folin (Cults), dropped their first EP in 2010 and started to gather just the right kind buzz, from all the worthwhile corners of the Internet. Fast-forward to 2013 and the band drops their debut album, “In Guards We Trust” to a music economy that didn’t value songwriting as hook-filled and honest as this so it went largely missed by my ears specifically. We’d moved on as a nation from MGMT to Bon Iver. But now it seems that maybe we’re coming around, cycling back towards jangle-indie-pop that made the early 2010’s so catchy. Well here we are now, deep in the future of 2018, and its sure starting to seem that way. We’ve got new music from this three-piece that’s as glorious as anything I’ve heard in a long time.



With “DESTROYER,” Guards’ crispest and freshest song to date, the band feels accomplished, like they’ve dialed their sound into exactly what it’s supposed to be. They must be working to get this type of indie rock its much-deserved resurgence. Hopefully they’ll lead the new wave with their fearless indie-pop songwriting and catchy hooks that stick in your brain permanently: like the syph. “DESTROYER” blurs the line between indie rock weirdo and radio-friendly play. Guards have got just the right kind of the pop-catchiness here, hinting at the recent successes of Saint Motel and Portugal. The Man, that could make this song enjoyably inescapable. Seriously, if “DESTROYER” was on radios and tv commercials and hip clothing store playlists everywhere, you wouldn’t even mind, would you? I know I sure as shit wouldn’t. Let’s get it there together!!! Call your local congressman! Guards! Guards! Guards!

From deep within the murky depths of the Los Angeles River emerged a creature: 50% raver, 50% comedian, 10% Robotcop. Kurt Kroeber doesn’t own a dog, operates Soundbleed (the world’s only dance party comedy talk show rave), and is down to party with you. Come up some time and say “Hey dude!” But definitely make sure to casually drop the secret Illuminati password.