Indie Bands’ Vocals Go from Indistinguishable to Complete Gibberish

OUTSHINEATX | PHOTO CRED
If you find this missing indie band in the woods please leave them there.

We are currently living in a period of great societal change, a cosmic rift, a Renaissance if you will.

Indie bands are now so indie that they have chosen to forsake commonly accepted annunciation in preference for a system of no enunciation whatsoever.

Lyrics are irrelevant and meaning is arbitrary. Who needs to sing about giving out your number and hoping someone will call you maybe when you just moan and scream into a microphone instead?

At the 12th Annual Battle of the Incoherent Bands in the basement of a foreclosed vegan coffee shop, bands took to the stage to vie for the title of superior moaner. There may have been lyrics to the songs, but if there were I missed them.

The bands on the setlist included The The, Pissed Jeans, Test Icicles, The String Cheese Incident, Sleigh Bells, We Butter the Bread with Butter and Chumbawamba.

Police shut down the gig after several noise complaints from the Battle of the Quiet Bands competition across the street, the winner of which was a band called Sparklepony that played a xylophone made out of feathers.

Many of these indie bands have taken up residence in the woods where they are “researching the sounds of Mother Nature for an experimental album meant to soundtrack your godchild’s christening and haunted houses.”

As of recent reports, several indie bands have gone missing in various wooded areas. The bands disappeared after taking publicity photos in a foggy forest all looking in different directions except at the camera and were never seen again.

It’s rumored that if you walk in the woods alone at night, you can see unironic fedoras and hear the ghosts of indie bands complaining, “Ugh, mainstream music sucks. I only listen to real music,” along with sightings of Bigfoot and the Tupac hologram.

They say art precedes social change, so it is only a matter of time before the human race begins to communicate via nasal moans and Gregorian chants.

Basically, human language is going to turn into every alt-J song you’ve ever heard.

Life imitates art. Wrong. Life imitates indie music.

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