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With a hard-rocking performance characterized by Mario Cuomo's moaning vocals and simple guitar riffs, Elmhurst, Illinois outfit The Orwells lit up the stage at the Aquarium Drunkard party at Hype Machine's Hype Hotel. With an energy reminiscent of The Hives, The Orwells have been garnering a lot of attention lately. Having graduated high school in 2013, the band is now pursuing music full-time and doing a hell of a job at bringing garage rock back to its former boisterous glory.

Watch the barely legal rock up-and-comers tear through a set of songs including those off their 2012 full-length Remember When. They look a bit blasted, but we're not judging, and we're sure their IDs were totally legit.


For more info about Hype Machine, check out hypem.com.
For more info about Feed The Beat, check out FeedTheBeat.com.

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Transcript

Oh I tried, I tried, she lied, she lied, its too late, too late.
Goodbye, goodbye.
I tried, I tried, she lied, she lied,
it's too late, too late.
Goodbye, goodbye.
What she said in my bed, said she wished that I was dead
What she said in my bed, said she wished that I was dead
Oh I tried, I tried, she lied, she lied,
its too late, too late.
Goodbye, goodbye
I tried, I tried, she lied, she lied, it's too late, too late
Good bye, good bye
What she said in my bed, said she wished that I was dead
What she said in my bed, said she wished that I was dead
Oh I tried, I tried, she lied, she lied, its too late, too late
Good bye, good bye.
I tried, I tried, she lied, she lied
it's too late, too late. Good bye
Smoke in the air.
I don't have a care.
Double, double, double, double
double, double double dare falling down the stairs.
But it's not fair.
Don't touch your hair
It's not nice to stare, but it's not fair to let down your hair
Well I don't know where? Where, where, where, where?
I don't know where, where, where the fuck to go
Oh, oh, oh
Smoke in the air.
I don't have a care.
Double, double, double, double
double, double, double dare.
I'm falling down all the stairs. Ow!
But it's not fair.
Don't cut your hair
It's not nice to stare, but it's not fair to let down your hair
Well I don't know where? Where, where, where, where?
I don't know where, where, where the fuck to go
Oh, oh, oh
I'm, I'm slipping in, and you're tripping out
But that's what night time's all about
Don't take me in, I'll drag you down
You're not the prettiest girl around.
Take a breath, stop brinking out
Take a drink and let's make out.
Your pupil's wide, let's go outside
Light up a smoke and start to cry
I'm, I'm slipping in, and you're tripping out
And I'm tripping in, I can't get out
I'm slipping in and you're tripping out.
And I'm tripping in. I can't get out
Well, I'm slipping in and you're tripping out
And I'm tripping in.
I can't get out.
I'm slipping in and you're tripping out
And I let you in, and you let me out
Don't grab my hand, I'm not your friend.
I'm waiting for my life to end
Give me the gun, pass me the pen.
Tonight's the night, our lives will end
Well I spilled the blood.
It's crimson red
I've got the voices in my head.
Give me the gun, pass me the pen.
Tonight's the night our lives will end
I'm slipping in and you're tripping out.
And I'm slipping in, I can't get out
I'm slipping in and you're tripping out.
And I'm tripping in, I can't get out
Well, I'm slipping in and you're tripping out
And I'm slipping in, I can't get out.
I'm slipping in and you're tripping out
And I'll let you in if you let me out
I'm slipping in and you're tripping out.
And I'm tripping in, I can't get out
I'm slipping in and you're tripping out.
And I'm tripping in, I can't get out
Well, I'm slipping in and you're tripping out
And I'm tripping in, I can't get out.
I'm slipping in and you're tripping out
And I'll let you in, if you let me out
- This next one is for Justin Gage, our godfather.
Speak my mind.
They got offended
Slap their ass.
We got suspended
Big bright eyes in black outline
Leave me feeling high and dry
Now that he's gone it's better for you
We're never wrong.
It's better for you
Don't take too long.
It's better for you
Wait until dawn.
I'm better for you
They're looking for you.
Waiting for you
Running for you.
Coming for you
They leave me running
The kids are coming.
They're looking for you
They're waiting for you
Now that he's gone it's better for you
We're never wrong.
It's better for you
Don't take too long.
It's better for you
Wait untill dawn.
It's better for you
I'll even say it's better for you
Wait up for days.
It's better for you
I'm getting laid.
It's better for you
They're looking for you.
They're waiting for you
La La La La La La La La La La La La
La La La La La La La La
La La La La La La La La La La La La
La La La La La La La La
La La La La La La La La La La La La
La La La La La La La La La La La La La La La La
Yeah there's a chick I saw.
Little baby at the mall
Walking around with them all.
Looking for push-up bras
Yeah, there's the chick I saw.
Everything she sees she get it all
all, all, all, all
Yeah there's the chick I saw.
Everything she get it all
She's like a crystal ball.
We gonna show 'em all
We gonna show 'em all.
We gonna show 'em all
La La La La La La La La La La La La
La La La La La La La La
La La La La La La La La La La La La
La La La La La La La La
La La La La La La La La La La La La
La La La La La La La La La La La La La La La La
Yeah there's the chick I saw.
Everything she get it all
She's like a crystal ball.
We gonna show 'em all
Hanging at the food court.
Little girl in short shorts
I was gonna take it but she's pulling off my t-shirt
La La La La La La La La La La La La
La La La La La La La La
La La La La La La La La La La La La
La La La La La La La La
La La La La La La La La La La La La
La La La La La La La La La La La La La La La La
- Whoa, thank you everybody!

Artist Bio

The Orwells are made up of five kids from Chicago, Illinois. They play rock n roll music. Their names are Mario, Grant, Henry, Dominick and Matt. They write songs - scratch that, primitive teenage battle cries - about girls and America and being suspended from high school. Although one might categorize The Orwells' distinct brand of the blues as garage or punk, they would be wrong. The Orwells sound comes from a deeper, different place. A place both long forgotten and also timeless. via Autumn Tone

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The Orwells

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