Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Recording engineered by Matt Oliver
What I'd like to do, and what I'm going to do, is imagine that Kentrell "Krispy" Lindsey and Alvin "Joey" Lindsey -- the two brothers who make up the New Orleans hip-hop group The Knux, are living inside the video for "Thriller," or something akin to it. There wouldn't be many zombies, per se, but there would be killers, blood-thirsty, gun and blade-packing killers, lurching about just beyond the reach of the streetlights. They might be playful killers, the kind that would be down for a beer or two, some recreational drugs, some rock and roll music, before they carved you and your lady friend up like pumpkins, but they'd be out there prowling, seeking out their next victims. They'd be looking for the teenagers who were out there having sex and the girls who were extra vocal in the sack. These would be the first targets for the killers in the lives of the Lindsey brothers. We would exist among all kinds of these villains -- we likely already do without realizing it -- and The Knux, while keeping it bumping and rather light, but grindable turn the unseen dangers into a wonderful elephant in the rooms of their songs. Many of the songs off of the band's debut full-length, from a few years ago -- 2009's "Remind Me In 3 Days..." -- make you feel like there's no way you should be walking around, alone at night and yet all of them make a body want to have headphones on, doing that very thing, bobbing a head with a curled lip wrapped around the filtered end of a dirty cigarette, puffing out that smoke out into the crazy, wired night. It could be that the killers in these twisted tales that seem to signal the many downfalls of man, are the women that these boys are coming into contact with, these females in their deviled heels, with the puckered lips and no visible indications that they're filled completely with evil. They could be the ones, referred to in a new song, "Razorblade," who are "lunatics with no beliefs." They could be the characters packing the heat, ready to gun down any of the weaklings, unusable warm bodies that get in their ways. The Knux get grimy and they write stories about those people who play with fire, who are running around looking for trouble, feeling their hearts beat harder as they get closer to it. They recognize that feeling and pay attention to it. It feels like jumping out of a plane or jumping into a den of sleeping snakes. It feels like an orgasm for about the same amount of time. They transform that feeling into a hybrid music that is partially hip-hop and even more a drafty, outrunning Johnny Law form of rock and roll. There are guns and there is blood. There's fog wrapping around our ankles. We can only see a few feet in front of us. We're wandering into a cavern of all of our vices, their vices -- all of the vices out there in the tall grass -- and we're alert. Our skin is crawling and yet, we can sense that we're far enough away from last call to know that we're going to be great for a while yet. We're just being swayed by the beasts in the room, before congregating with the crazies outside when the night gets darker.