From what the crack research staff here at the Smashin' Transistors could gather on the Nothing People they hail from a farming community in northern California by the name of Orland. At first I was thinking that maybe it was a front because the band has an unearthly thing about them. Spending many a day growing up in small farmtown myself though it's easy to become disconnected from what the rest of the world has going on. Though houses may be a half mile apart from each other out there-word travels fast in the sticks. Once branded a weirdo out in the pines it's hard to shake it so might as well embrace it.
Garage-drone-noise that makes a POP crackle. Thoughts of the metallic glare of Chrome, the bad trip on a sunny day feeling of Jesus and the Mary Chain, the grunt & growl of the Necessary Evils and the "Are they stoned on drugs or just getting high off the static" question that gets asked while listening to the Wooden Shjips all run through the brain while this record plays. Like those bands though where I could make a million comparisons on what band's that came before them that they remind me of (though I admit it's a bit trickier when discussing Chrome) they still end up sounding like their own thing. Sure, people have stories of trips that remind others "of the time something like that happened to me" but they all have had different twist and ending. I sure won't mind hearing some more of Nothing People's tales.