Prepare yourself for entering into twilight zone that's made up of caricatures of the oddest people and their even odder interests. It's a place where the absurd rules, where the nonsensical jabberings of Lewis Carroll characters fit right in with standard fare about attractions and boredom, about interests and complaints.
The Indianapolis, Indiana, band Everthus The Deadbeats is a group of people that take us into the weirdest places, places that we're sure are manifestations of whimsy and maybe even some cunning cyborg masters that we're unfamiliar were even around, pulling the strings. There are science fiction leanings to some of these tales that come off as mashings of Fitz and the Tantrums, Wesley Willis and Of Montreal, or none of the above. It's hard to know where you are in these bizarre and adventurous tales of strange love and distorted realism. Everything's turned fantastical and flipped on its head.
A desirous feeling is applied to some kind of female cow creature in "Humming Cows," as John Muylle (or the man who goes by the stage name of John Kill) sings, "I saw her standing over there/She was looking so purdy/She winked at me with that big black eye/Yeah, there were no tags on this girl's ear, uh uh/Yeah, I guess you could say that her milk was her own." It's a sort of muskrat love, something perverse and crazy. It's a rumination based on gazing out at herds of cows, with their huge eyes staring back lazily as they chomp at grass and weeds for hours. Muylle asks, "Do you think they would eat you if they could?/Yes, but our meat is no good," and then the aliens come down and do something to all of us - the cows, us people. Our identities are confused as we slip into something of a fuzzy and demented new place where little makes sense. We just dance in the fucked up glow.
Everthus The Deadbeats Official Site