Like the rest of their generation, the Greeting Committee (made of Addie Sartino, Brandon Yangmi, Pierce Turcotte and Austin Frase) are fresh out of fucks to give on “Float Away”. The Kansas City-based quartet aren’t exactly bored with a case of Lorde’s Pure Heroine-era suburban ennui, though name-dropping the 1975 seems like the more commercialized version of referencing “Lover’s Spit”. Their affliction is instead more passive and consuming. Stale, as if each physical and mental sensation became dulled with a thin coat of dust—”You leave yourself and float away,” lead singer Sartino sings, eyes bleared at the ceiling.
Still, the band find room for the sort of wry humor the terminally online always have time for (see also: Baby Queen). “I call it weed. You call it function,” Sartino quips, a line of dialogue that wouldn’t feel out of place in Jules’ bedroom before the punch comes: “My life don’t feel like mine these days.” It’s not difficult to guess where the band’s dissociative, drug-addled existentialism is coming from, especially considering the fact that no better symbol exists for high school and university students today than a juul, blending technology, addiction, and “bruh”-energy into one flash drive for constant on-the-go use. The Greeting Committee channel that mentality into every aspect of their sound though. The bass steamrolls in static, angst-grunged; the drums are propulsive without feeling frenetic; and marimba keys twirl underneath it in a loop, like a haunted carousel all our minds seem to be stuck riding lately.
