The Brindley's father owns Jammin Java.
The Post creamed themselves over these guys, but I ran across a different opinion.
The Brindley Brothers, at their best, sound like an Americanized version of another musical sibling-set, The Proclaimers. Both bands play a pleasant and frequently invigorating pop version of their home country's musical meat 'n' potatoes. In the case of our Brindley Brothers, this means that they play a little folk, a little rock, and some country.
However, whereas The Proclaimers have the incalculably important ability to make every word they say sound urgent (whether the subject is emotional affairs, politics, or football), The Brindley Brothers frequently leave us wondering just what drove them to song-writing. Their inspired melodies have a solid pop sensibility; bursts of loud but clean guitar and non-threatening drums can be counted on to strike at precisely the right moment, keeping listeners full of the sort of pure, beautiful energy that only really good comfort-rock can inspire. It's a shame that the lyrics leave so much to be desired.
In "Roman Candle", one Brindley sings "It's been too long / I've written 22 songs / About how you've been gone / And that's not a good thing / Tell me, who wants to hear that?" You know, it's hard to say, but the number of people who want to hear it probably isn't much higher than the number of people who want to hear about it. "Slow Burn" isn't helping their case much, either -- it's a series of loosely connected metaphors that seem be meant to refer to something; however, the audience is not let in on what that something is. "It's simple and free but still it's fine / It's fine / It's fine / It's fine / It's a slow burn / But the waiting, oh the waiting" is the best clue we're given. And as clues go, it sucks.
A lot of great stories could have been worked into this music, but it seems unlikely that the Brindley Brothers know any of them. If they do, they're not telling.
