Just as in normal every day life, the nervous and vulnerable in music use self depreciative measures in order to make up for their own imagined deficiencies. Instead of making jokes about the weight of band members or joking about their terrible hairstyles, bands tend to simply turn up the reverb, add some distortion and hope for the best. whether or not San Diegan youngsters Range Rovers feel confident about their own music is pretty much irrelevant given the quality of it, hidden underneath an ocean of fuzz.
Seemingly recorded on an broken Alba walkman inside a disused washing machine, there’s some beautiful work in their somewhere, the values of their production are at odds with the wonder at the songs core. The tags on their bandcamp suggest the band might quite not know what they’re aiming for at the moment, with the labels ‘dub’, ‘indie’ and ‘pop’ all hopefully applied, but their claims of lo-fi pyschedelia are closer to the mark, the warped melodies simmering somewhere deep beneath. It’s a bizarre treat, but there’s a sensation that haunts the few efforts they’ve put out so far – that this would be a lot better if they’d managed to lay it down on something that cost more than 50p.