I didn’t come here to talk, I came to fuck myself up on concrete.
– Animal City “And Learning to Dive”
Animal City calls home the city of Chicago and the awesome midwestern label Sophomore Lounge Records (State Champion, The Only Sons). It’s harder to locate their second LP, See You In The Funny Pages. Sixteen mangy, asphalt-scarred rock songs run feral through Mike Watt-ed funk and Sebadoh-zy stoner romancery; soundtracking greased skateboard trucks, unpolished horse tack, piss on the side of the bank building, or fixing the hole in the drywall you just punched.
This band speaks my language and I love this album. They can talk about god and drugs without sounding like pricks–because they do it without pretense. In Animal City’s hands, those aren’t topics of currency. They’re not trading irony for substance. They can talk about that part of life with more complexion than drunks talking about drink. “I just want to do drugs with the people I love,” goes a line from early in the album. Toward the end, “I’m my only friend for life; I’m the only source I like to cite.”
It’s an honest album about curious people–so it doesn’t matter if you prefer The Hold Steady, Possessed by Paul James, Micah Schnabel, Arliss Nancy, or whoever–you should connect with something this album somehow.
Animal City: fine stories, hard rock. Essential Listening.