Disposable Thumbs

press

Beard Rock
If you're the kind of person who trawls through various blogs, last.fm and the hypemachine etc. in search for undiscovered gems, you'll probably understand what I'm talking about when I say that there are just some bands who manage to grab your attention away from the rest. The kind of band that proudly stands up with its chest out, boots the neighbouring piles of lack-lustre-mumford and sons tribute acts square in the face and shouts something along the lines of, "LISTEN UP DICK HEAD". Well perhaps they don't go about it in quite such a vulgar and boorish way, but i'm sure you get the idea. Right? Chicago based nutcase, Disposable Thumbs AKA Zach Lewis is one of these artists who are truly worthy of your time. Now when you hear the tag "experimental" attached to a band your ears prick up no? But a cynical little part in the back of your brain starts to wonder, "hmm, does this mean it's just going to be another guitar band who have worked out how a microkorg works or is this actually going to be something different?" In the case of Disposable thumbs, you can completely disregard that pessimistic little brain nag, because this really is something else. Listen to pretty much any of Zach Lewis' songs first time round, and it's hard to stop a manic grin from crawling across your face. In my eyes, this is experimentalism done perfectly. The music sounds off kilter, totally unpredictable and it's utterly addictive, yet it manages to stay pleasantly on the right side of abrasive or lacking too severely in structure. You'll probably struggle to sing along, or even hum any of it, but it's this level of eccentricity that makes Disposable Thumbs so addictive. Every new listen uncovers another element in a song that you had been previously unaware of first time through. The lo-fi, scuzzy guitar work of This Sinking Ship, plastered with freaked out oscillators and crashing percussion whips up images of some sort of drugged up garage band playing to a warehouse full of malfunctioning robots. Synths splash erratic grooves in all directions and Lewis' vocals, somewhat similar stylistically to Late Of The Pier frontman, Sam Eastgate's, take these slices of unadulterated noise and transforms them into post-everything, psychotic pop songs. Soap Lady sounds as though it could just be a bunch of 5 or 6 short electronically driven songs mashed together into one intense, yet easily consumable sort of chaos sandwich. These are songs that don't conform to any sort of context, you couldn't play them in a club, they aren't party songs and they aren't sit at home and listen on your headphones sort of songs either. It doesn't fit any certain time or place. Music that's stuck in limbo, wherein it's packed full of enthusiasm and power, but you can't decide whether you're supposed to dance or headbang, and for me, I think it's this sort of confusion that gives the music it's appeal. Like the musical equivalent of an espresso, Disposable thumbs will give you a sharp, sudden blast of energy, but be warned, it's something of an acquired taste.

-Allan Struthers

Miami New Times
Zach Lewis has experienced the intense scrutiny that accompanies performing a one-man show. With a laptop and an electric guitar as his only companions onstage, he is solo act Disposable Thumbs. Auditory deception strikes listeners who have not seen Lewis strum his guitar and tap his MIDI pedal, for Disposable Thumbs' tight craftsmanship and electro-rock sound leave audiences imagining a trio or quartet happily playing their respective instruments.

- Alexandra Quiñones

OneTimesOne
Ziggy played guitar - we know, we bought the album, we dyed the hair, and we wore the spandex. But then, Ziggy got boring, started wearing suits, and went by the name David. Please, darling. Luckily, Disposable Thumbs (the nom de guitaire of Zach Lewis) remembers the good old days and has the kindness to rehash them for us, a kind of I Love the (Good Music of) the 70s. The touchstones on this debut EP range from early Costello (Welcome to Guyana) to Roxy Music (Girl on Fire). The topics are gleefully diverse, from DIY brain surgery to the perils of a fashionista lifestyle, but the key to Lewis's music is his vocals; they're a dynamic interpretation of the Thin White Duke himself, in all his melodramatic glory. "I'm second place in the race for space!" Lewis cries on Heavens to Betsy. With any luck, he'll wind up first - let's just hope that his inspiration doesn't turn to 80s Bowie.

- Emily Tartanella

Village Voice
Self proclaimed "electro-pop-rock" that hiccups closer to Sparks than to electroclash.

- Chuck Eddy

Smother Magazine
Synth pop with electro and noisy chaos in tow, We Watched the Sun Go Supernova has a way about it that blurs the line between bleepy and glitchy IDM and electro pop. The vocals definitely feel inspired by David Bowie whose Ziggy Stardust-era Zach Lewis (the main singer/songwriter behind Disposable Thumbs) cites. The lyrics are quirky but a nice read nonetheless. Bouncy hooks get your juices flowing with ease on this bizarre yet fun pop album.

- J-Sin

PopMatters
Disposable Thumbs is the pet project of Zach Lewis, he claims to be the only permanent member. This EP release is a cocktail of six short (under three minutes for the most part) and punchy tunes that sound like a 22nd Century Ric Ocasek experimenting with that retro 1980s Cars sound. Pretty, throwaway pop tunes that successfully employ electronica to guitar pop. "I've got a damaged frontal lobe/I wonder if I'm dumber" warbles Lewis in his best Elvis Costello vibrato. Make no mistake, this is Nerd Rock but the kinetic energy contained within all of the tracks is not marred by the wordy lyrics. In fact they add to the entertainment value, they are eminently quotable. This is one for fans of The Cars, Devo and Robert Pollard...I'd be interested to hear what Lewis will do with his up and coming full-length album.

- Marc A. Price

Rocknworld.com
We Watched the Sun Go Supernova is a little blast of electronically minded indie rock. The kind with a little guitar and humor thrown in for good measure. At only six tracks it is a fun record that ends before it can overstay its welcome; a little trick other bands should be quick to note.

- Zane Ewton