"The average OC hipster is likely to digest a minimum of five to 10 nauseatingly ambiguous, animal-inspired band names each month. But despite the endless trail of jangly guitar solos, buckskin vests and bohemian swagger, sometimes even the most avid showgoers are left wanting. Maybe that’s because so few of these bands manage to stretch their sound beyond the realm of calculated carbon copies—diet versions of finer music eras gone by."
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