In a label-crazy world, the music of The Crosswalks is a breath of fresh air. A little too whimsical for Indie rock and a little too boundy for the overly-introspective world of emo, the leaping melodies and whip-smartass lyrical content mesh into a goulash of styles and influences that is at once familiar and decidedly alien. The result is a sound that has crashed out of the garage and through the stratosphere in directions that careen beautifully in every angle. A Crosswalks performance is a sonic suckerpunch. The thunderous, drum-tight blast does not sound like it's coming from three people. But as the group swaps vocals (each member spends equal time on the mic) and surges back-and-forth across the stage, the creative energy and adrenalized charisma of the band shines. There is never a dull moment, or a lapse in the show where you feel compelled to hit the bathroom. The Crosswalks - in all their goofy, eclectic and explosive glory - grab you by the throat and refuse to let go. And you have no choice but to bob your head and go along with the ride.
1) Bird
2) Trim
3) Slapdash
4) Harder Than a Granite Slab
5) Bladed Questions