"My dad was a left-handed pitcher and baseball was his life," singer and guitarist Angela Mullenhour explains from the back of the band's van. "When he was training for Vietnam in the Army, he busted his shoulder up and he couldn't pitch anymore. Basically, it's about - I'm not going to say 'not giving up' because that's stupid, I hate that. Basically, it's about being grateful... it's about why you do things that you do. What is it that drives you, that makes you live like fucking bums and sacrifice things? Blame it on that. I blame it on the music."
-From a phone interview Angela gave to Illinois Entertainer during Sybris' first west coast tour.
Even the coffee-shop strum of "Blame It on the Baseball" is made magnetic by Mullenhour's authoratative vocal turn, a blend of raw emotion and melodic control, and by the shimmering, stormy shoegaze it gradually melts into...
Pitchfork - Brian Howe
"Blame it on the Baseball" poses as a Mazzy Star comedown until its melted vinyl guitars seize control and drip pink goo all over the place.
Splendid - Phillip Buchan
Epic in scope, with drums and guitars building into towering crescendos that evoke a ragin nighttime sea.
Chicago Tribune
lyrics
you are me father you quit smokin' on the day i was born. you said, "honey, i want to see you get married, and have children of your own." it's always between what you love and the ones that you love. blame it on baseball, blame it on the music and that is all, you've got to have a great passion, and that's about all. and sometime, someday, maybe we'll get hitched and have babies to my wedding song, but i don't know how to. to quit smoking, how to fall in love. never fallen in love, never fall in love.
Chicago's Sybris (pronounced "Sib-riss") has returned fifteen years after their last record. Midwestern ex-goths making soaring, visceral post-punk stoner rock.
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