Back in the olden days of The Industry, managers, agents, and A&R reps all referred to the mystical concept of “it.” Does the band have “it?” Do they want “it?” The “it” could not be defined, but it could be recognized. This vague and mysterious concept comes into play when talking about Athens, Georgia’s Tunabunny. Sure, the Athens scene has produced a number of quirky, cutie-pie indie-pop bands, ones that relied on charm and cuteness more than talent. But there’s definitely something different about Tunabunny. There’s a magic in the rickety rhythms, the creaky vocalist, and the off-beat, “are they or aren’t they in time” melodies. The vocal duties are split between Brigette Herron and Mary Jane Hassell, and between the both of them, they recall many of the best vocalists from the last thirty years. That they’ve been garnering a ton of positive press for their album Minima Moralia isn’t surprising, but yet, on second thought, it kind of is.
Why, then, Tunabunny? What sets them apart from other garage-rock punk-rock bands? Part of their charm—and what sets them apart from their Happy Happy Birthday to Me label mates, and their Athens scene friends—is that there’s that inexplicable “it” that comes into factor. Whether it’s the new wave dance fun of “Cross Wire Technique,” the crunchy garage rock of “Hurry Up” or “Killer of Sheep,” the riot-grrrl joy of “the Natural World” and “Fake It, Faker,” or the simple moodiness of “Electric Beach,” it all feels natural, it all feels sincere, it all feels oh-so-RIGHT, and it doesn’t sound contrived, it doesn’t sound like a pathetic homage masquerading as originality, it is the sound of a band that has a great record collection and a desire to make music that reflects that fact.
Having watched a few of their live shows on Youtube, they certainly show that they have “it” when they get on stage. So there’s that.
Then again, I think overanalyzing Tunabunny detracts from the overall greatness of Minima Moralia—it’s a record that simply has that inexplicable appeal, one that is a pleasure to listen to, and is, perhaps, one of the finest punk records of the year.
