DESCRIPTION:
This is Beekeepers, an Oakland-based synth-punk band that’s got an unfortunate amount of e’s in their name—I know, I know, that seems like a real-nitpicky thing to even bring up, but seriously, half of the band’s name is composed of the letter e. As someone with dyslexia, it’s something that’s been irking the fuck out of me every time I try to type their name out. “Bekeepers”, “Bekepers”, “Beeekepers”, “Beekeepeers”, basically me just adding or removing e’s where I shouldn’t. I hate it. Yo Beekeepers, you guys ever consider stylizing your name to something that’s a little bit easier for defective brains like mine to handle? Like, B-Keeprz or something, maybe add another z to the end of that to up the “cool” factor. B-Keeprzz. Consider it.

Yet, strangely enough, their difficult-to-write name is the only thing that I find myself disliking about Beekeepers, and that’s really saying something considering how much of an irritable listener I can be—not that you’d know, since I typically avoid making disparaging statements against bands that are otherwise harmless. Not because I’m a nice guy who’s got nothing but nice things to say, but rather because I’m a twink who’s afraid of putting up with the ensuing-fallout that naturally comes with talking shit on the internet. But I don’t have to worry about that with Beekeepers though, because for what they are—with that being a noise-ridden, synth-infused garage rock group—the group never fails to stimulate my innards and reverberate my hearing receptors to a near-painful degree, undeterred by how often their sounds mirror the sensation of violently chewing on tinfoil.

The group’s sounds correlate well with their presentation. This Oakland three-piece, consisting of a guitarist, drummer, and a synth player, chooses to don full sets of beekeepers’ clothing during their live shows, being made complete with mesh-net headgear that also doubles as a means to conceal their identity. To up the weirdness aspect of their visual performances, the group’s guitarist/vocalist also chooses to wear his microphone as opposed to hovering near one; according to said guitarist/vocalist, the microphone is fashioned into a mask made up of a torn-apart doll and bra hooks. While it may seem like a gimmicky approach in atmospheric supplementation, I believe it coincides well with the group’s pre-defined brand of music: volatile, temperamental, and more importantly, noisy. Think of it as some noise rock that’s feverishly emanating from a running microwave, with the synth’s and guitar’s ear-piecing squeals, gutteral rumbles, and warbling intonations being a byproduct of the music’s radioactive marinade. It’s hyperactive and confrontational, but doesn’t do without some melodious articulations, as succinct as they may be: the most notable example of this is the garagey inflections that are sprinkled throughout, particularly in the latter half of “Undertaker Bee”, which briefly deviates from its pre-established convulsive, sporadic pace to experiment with an oddly chipper-sounding melody, before finally collapsing on itself with an intimidating stretch of pained moans, screeching feedback, and erratic drumbeats. That track, along with the entirety of “Krampus Shaved My Mailbox” and “Varroa Mites”, struck a chord with me in particular, effectively cementing my love for this group’s demented sounds. Along with these oddly-compelling instances of synth-punk are the noise-driven instrumentals bestrewn about, serving as the group’s proverbial smoker, cleansing the palette and grinding the listener’s brain down to mush before returning to one of the eight other tracks found on this release. Beekeepers debut LP, “Varroa Mites” (which is a type of parasite that’s known to wipe out bee hives through the transmission of lethal infections) serves to be a fantastic successor to their original demo—a tape that was first released in April of 2014 (https://beekeepersband.bandcamp.com/releases)–and I can’t help but feel charmed by their generally-repulsive audio abuse.

If you guys want to support these guys, the aptly-named “support” link below has a place where you can purchase a physical copy of this LP. Beekeepers could make use out of your money, seeing that they’re currently on a five-week-long European tour with Berlin’s Puff. The event page can be found here; if any of these shows are near you, I recommend checking them and their cute beekeeper suits out: https://www.facebook.com/events/1749879018631084/

TRACK LIST:
Varroa Mites – 0:00
Symptoms – 4:45
Collage #1 – 5:44
Game Over – 6:05
Collage #2 – 8:10
Undertaker Bee – 8:23
Auf Auf – 11:26
Collage #3 – 15:37
Break of Yawn – 15:41
Krampus Shaved My Mailbox – 16:23
Collage #4 – 18:47
Cock Rot – 19:11

SUPPORT:
https://vacantstarerecords.bandcamp.com/album/beekeepers-varroa-mites-lp
https://beekeepersband.bandcamp.com/album/varroa-mites-2
DOWNLOAD: http://www.mediafire.com/download/y17bdpuu1kg91d1/Varroa_Mites.zip