It’s hard not to fall hard for The Little Ones, a band of boys that share our hometown and seem sweet as ice cream. We hear soft musings à la Deathcab (like, in its 2.o state, not Stability EP-style) with an almost Mamas and Papas-esque, folksy group vibe, all made more interesting by the occasional dabble in new wavey, maybe Psychadelic Furs-y, texture.
That is not to strip anything away from the identity The Little Ones themselves, who have a singular appeal and a welcome, warm, fresh sensibility. They’re like a glass of lemonade on a icky-hot day, a soft kiss on the lips at the end of a slow dance, a long walk in the middle of a 9-5 afternoon. Simply put, they make us happy. And in times like these, that ain’t no little feat.
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