TONY BULLETS is the moniker of Evan Hughey. The Boston based dream/bedroom pop musical insurgence throws us a curve ball of a track in ‘Follow’. In line with his style of drizzly but manic lyrical attitudes, the malign fascination of hazy thoughts and feelings drip off the carcass of a song like ‘Follow’. By design, of course, and as the pastel shimmer of the song passes by, you wave with a grin and a scratch to your skull of recognition and admiration.
Off of the upcoming project print named ‘Golem’, ‘Follow’ resides as a point of light, dim and understated. It lives with ample platitudes, and caress-able rumination, showered in the decadence of a life that may or may not be.
A dedication to a love, an infatuation for the soft flesh. A plaque for the lips that hit with a thousand bolts of lightning, as the quad folds connect for the first and eternal times. The scent of animalistic drivel, pounce with athletic dexterity, as the mingling aura, circulate and make your head light with joy and catatonic vexation. Towards the other, you gaze with intent. Resetting with a thought of “Is this it? Is this the time?”
She kisses back, as you fantasies come to pass.
‘Follow’ reckons a future encounter, that is both alien and local. Personalities of emotions clash as the shimmer of the instruments softly denounce the current realities. Suspended in flight, the analog drums and the sympathetic, but apathetic style of Evan’s vocals, drape in unadulterated angst.
In moments of three plus minutes, a shade of coming-of-age, sparkles in kind. As you roll up in your couch, thinking and hoping for that bolt of lightning, once more.
TONY BULLETS is an aesthetic for you mind, streamed for your heart.