LA WEEKLY - Jen Hitchcock

Breech singer Missy Gibson is at her best naked. The raw place from which she bellows, whispers, cries and spits out her words fels a lot like being unclothed. From her early days playing in tandem with guitarist Philip Watts to the duo's current full band lineup, Gibson has been steadfast about bringing the show literally into the audience, wandering about and quite often scaring the shit out of many an unsuspecting onlooker. On their debut EP, Breech - jointly produced with Matt Thorne - the band has successfully captured this hiden-in-the-cracks electrical energy, giving it free rein to unleash howling, growling and writhing on your living-room floor.

Beauifully layered in stark and nuanced textures, the songs benefit from unexpected instrumental enhancement, such as the frantic string arrangements of "Fables" and "Holiday" and the smatterings of theremin in "Cabin," which weave a porous aural canvas that allows the imagery of the songs to breathe.  The band's soulful rock roots rip forth in the refrain of "Blacktop, Gibson allowing herself nary a breath between coos and raspy wails as she reveals the back-and-forths of an inner conflict during a car ride: "Do I think?/Do I know?/Do I like the way I feel?/Do I care?/Do i hate?/Do I know what's going on?/He couldn't give me everything/He better give me everything."   Watts adeptly reads between the lines, giving voice to the song's unspoken thoughts via stylish, emotive guitar and strong backing vocals.

With additional punctuation from accordion/keyboard player Joe McAlevy, Breech creates a finely detailed simplicity that allows six musical stories to unfold like the yellowing pages of a long-lost diary.

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