“Reminiscent of Rilo Kiley” is one of the highest compliments an indie band can get, and the debut release from new Rochester group Milo is exactly that. More is more when it comes to vocalists. These two tracks, released in April, treat listeners to an equal taste of both Milo singers telling their own stories as if everyone’s poking coals at the same campfire.
The first track, “Valve,” paints a vivid picture of jaded frustration and missed connections through abrupt simple sentences: I know too much of the process / The lye and the salt / It’s circumstantial / It isn’t my fault. The guitar is perfectly bare when it needs to be, and comes in at a melodic thrum while vocalists Kirk Stevens and Dana Osterling Benoit’s voices play hot potato on the pre-chorus, trading off, then overlapping and finally coming together.
With Osterling Benoit’s breezy and conversational vocal delivery, it’s impossible to ignore the influences of Jenny Lewis on “Whatever.” The song about driving away from it all finds her confessing, I’m afraid cause I’m getting older / And we’re all gonna die someday, and then immediately chases off the existentialism with a gas station Hostess Donette: Tried to save a donut for later / But I ate it on the way.
The guitar and drums are equally bratty and poppy. Drummer Jono Benoit’s 20 years in local hardcore bands have made him keenly aware of exactly how to let the lyrics breathe. He knows just when to set down a reserved, nervous tick-tick-tick or an anticipatory thrum and exactly when to pull it all away for a few measures of anxious silence.
A standout release of 2025 so far, Milo’s first showing comes just in time to shout along to with the windows rolled down.
Liz Hogrefe is a contributor to CITY.
This article appears in Dec 1-31, 2024.
