Overcasters

Overcasters songs call from the psychedelia of the ‘60s and the echoing guitar sounds of post punk. Even the visual spectacles at their shows are equally calming, projected bubbles of light languidly floating over the stage. Ottaway’s biker growl is smoothed into a haunting, Win Butler-esque yell, a more accessible version of that vocal summoning of inner demons; and Tidwell’s rhythmic acrobatics are more a constant, continuous churning behind the music. They fall into characteristic black bl...

Overcasters songs call from the psychedelia of the ‘60s and the echoing guitar sounds of post punk. Even the visual spectacles at their shows are equally calming, projected bubbles of light languidly floating over the stage. Ottaway’s biker growl is smoothed into a haunting, Win Butler-esque yell, a more accessible version of that vocal summoning of inner demons; and Tidwell’s rhythmic acrobatics are more a constant, continuous churning behind the music. They fall into characteristic black blues, grinding rock; but always settle back into cool, calm, contented waters.