Myself and a cavalcade of other “critics” love to toss komisch around like it’s a football on a cool autumn Sunday. We speak of it like a playbook, and position ourselves as backyard Lombardis and Knolls leading our team to winning seasons and championships. As if the Grammys, or a more worthy award governance, will rise up to bequeath the best of a niche musical movement with a gaudy trophy and an acceptance speech on behalf of the bands before who helped make this possible. The glitz of the ESPYs but for music, with the spirit of competition.
But it’s a stupid dream. And worse, our overuse of such flippant terms has taken the edge away from them. So after wasting a paragraph setting up some promised premise, I’m going to do you better and talk about Wume as I would have any band I loved in my youth. They groove. They make you feel high even when you’re sober. They make great late night cruising music for those of you who remember what life was like on the open highway before city life and public transportation became a thing. Or if that’s always been your life, Maintain is night bus music. But back to the whole groove thing, because Maintain is black light and incense music. It’s a return to all those fun rhythms that made us excited to run amok in a world unable to completely hold our interest. Yet Wume does, despite the simplistic presentation. That’s the difference in youth and knowledge; Maintain recalling both at their best. So while I want to throw kraut-related nonsense at you, I think it’s best to let my inner child handle this one. Because it rocks. There is no other reason to it.
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