Given the glut of hyper-fuzzed bands defiantly eschewing conventional (read: clean) recording techniques, it’s tempting to dismiss Indiana’s Osteoferocious as smirking, bandwagon jumpers. All of the visual cues are there; Osteoferocious are a two-man band comprised of a singing drummer and a guitarist. Press photos show one member wearing a brightly colored, wide-brimmed hat (a la No Age) and another member in black rimmed glasses and flannel (a la everyone lately). Then there’s the precious, self-satisfied, sub-text free, punny band name. You may very well have dismissed this band already thanks to this description.
Then there’s the matter of their music. On this front, Osteoferocious do little to establish themselves as anything other than clever observers, but that doesn’t make OF difficult to enjoy. The duo alternate between supremely lo-fi, punkish, surf-rock (“Spring Strains”) and brief bursts of post-rock prettiness interrupted by rude pounding and power chords (“Ryan Wakes up with a Skeleton in his Bed”). Again, nothing new, and you will most certainly think of No Age, but even if Osteoferocious have a hard time distinguishing themselves from their influences, it’s an enjoyable homage.