A consistency in disorder breathes into existence a quintet bound to the loud and impulsive. Gritty and jangled on some occasions, then mangled and diverting in others. The only thing planned is the outburst itself.
A hypnotic trance is created through guitars painted heavy and a rhythm section bound for movement, but beneath the distortions and muddled screams Junior Astronomers seek to achieve more than just reactions from onlookers; the band itself tries to document the human experience. "Music needs to sound like human beings, like it's alive," frontman Terrence Richard declares. "A lot of people want to make sad shit all the time--that's one part of life but it's not all life. There's fun, there's happiness, there's sadness."
On stage the mess of humanity is embraced through a livid live show—devoid of controlled manipulation each night's set stumbles onto new devices. Passion bleeds over lofty construction making sure the songs themselves are the frame. The rest is unhinged and never over thought. "If something is forced it feels like a job," the band echoes.