LP disponible le 28 mai 2012.

In the center of downtown Olympia, Washington, in the middle of a parking lot, is an artesian well that spews fresh, ready-to-drink water from a metal pipe at the rate of ten gallons per minute. It’s often said that those among us who drink from the well, will never leave town, and if we do, we will always return in some capacity. The beer once brewed in Olympia even has “It’s the water!” written on the can. This is considered a form of proof, the way the pyramid on the dollar bill is
considered a form of proof. Olympia, then, is a town with a tether, a fluid pulse, a mythology open to interpretation. However you slice it, it’s a place teeming with ghosts, even if your ghost is just the shadow of who you were earlier this morning.  

Olympia three-piece, Broken Water— a sometimes noisy, sometimes droning, often pretty and subtly pop sounding band—is very much a product of its hometown. Shape-shifting over the course of EPs, singles, and full-length albums released consistently since 2009, the band has managed the rare feat of evolution in the service of a signature sound, wild experimentation that ultimately works as a harness, locking down the music’s unique and idiosyncratic internal logic.

All band members contribute lead vocals— Jon Hanna often sounds like Thurston Moore at his bratty best singing from the belly of a giant grizzly, and Kanako Pooknyw and Abigail Ingram balance things out with a mix of Mazzy Star-like precision and eerie, haunting melodies that can draw a jagged line back to My Bloody Valentine, Cocteau Twins, or even the springy, deadpan vocals of Black Tambourine. Add to this the way each instrument plays both for and against the others, and Broken Water creates an energetic crescendo; a controlled and restless sound, one that is ambient and ethereal without denying itself the messy joy of punk rock; a loud band, with seeds of aggression, but one that doesn't mask melodyfor the conceit of a sonic assault.