Plastic Picnic’s Bite is an ensemble of marbles, rolling between you mouth’s roofline, tongue juggling, with one’s face smiling till the cows come home. The home being the place where this sound in Bite, puts one in his/her place – the place of worship, the place for music sanity.
Emile Panerio, Lincoln Lute, Gordon Taylor, and Marshall Hunt make up the band. The music, they make together, sewing the edges together with their sinewy gut strings, taken from their experiential attitudes from life. The paste is the guest appearing synth keys, which is non-toxic and turns the tune into an everyday alt-pop, 80’s attribution. It’s a celebration.
The party continues as the song draws nearer to the end. The flakes of aftertaste, sticking to the roof of our minds, splatter our angst for next day’s work hours – instead taking us on a ‘lets-make-the-most-of-it’ attitude. We continue the party.
We lie basking in the sun, drenched in each others’ arms – forearm on top of shoulder, fingers on top of wrists – drinking in the atmosphere and smacking our lips to the next hours to come.
Bite is a summer song, but just doesn’t advertise itself as that. And properly, it shouldn’t.
Plastic Picnic is a nunnery, we don’t want to visit, but the memories of momentary happiness, draws to that climax.
It’s a talent of their’s.
We like it that way. We dig it that way.
They’re rep’ed by Highland Park Records.