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After a period of stasis, consultations with the iChing, and that feeling where your skin has become too tight, Cincinnati's Honeyspiders came to be as the next musical step for brothers, Chris and Jeremy Harrison. Their music navigates angular post-punk guitar lines deftly through psych and desert rock undertones while the rhythm section (supplied by drummer, Kamal Hiresh and bassist, Cole Walsh-Davis) lumbers and grooves in a way that eschews the vibe of those west coast influences for a darker midwestern vista.

"We've been around each other all of our lives, at times being isolated from other children out in the middle of nowhere. I think all of that time... that's given us the ability to communicate musically sometimes with only the vaguest of statements." says Jeremy, when asked about co-writing with his brother, Chris Harrison, and their rural Floridian upbringing. Chris adds "If you even look at us on an astrological level... if you believe in that.. we are opposites. Instead of clashing, we tend to compliment each other by being strong in places where the other isn't." That relationship is apparent in their songwriting efforts and live performances aided by co-conspirators Kamal Hiresh and Cole Walsh-Davis, whom they both known for years from playing in bands throughout the southern Ohio area.

Honeyspiders teamed up with friend, Mike Montgomery (R. Ring, Ampline) and long time collaborator, Todd McHenry to capture their first self-titled offering. The result comes on like a knife through the streets. Cutting open the dark and spilling out it's colored secrets into the ether. The songs take shape as a blend of swaggering rock n' roll, hazy opium den grooves, and wash. The secret beat kicks in and we plod and sway like sauropods through the anthemic stomp of "Underneath the Claws", the post-punk stampede of "Royal Blood", and the psychedelic tar pit of "New Blooms". On "Magdalene" Honeyspiders take us into a repose of snowy late night bedroom folk, dropping us through false floors into more depths of their songwriting before we are back into the revving leather-clad engines of "Guillotines" and "Blood Holy Love". We finalize our trip with the Zeppelin dirge of "Meadow Song", going further into the garden imagery that permeates the recording both lyrically and sonically. As the last bit of feedback fades away, we find that the vines have grown over us, entangled by a solid offering from a band that effortlessly balances rock n' roll bravado and post rock sensibility in a gray cryptic haze.

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