Two things you can always hear in Bleached songs are the nonchalance and the pissiness. It's the wonderful tone of the nonchalance that gives the California group - fronted by sisters Jennifer and Jessica Clavin - its most insistent feel, but it's the agitated, devil may care attitude of these two pretty blondes that gives them that extra something.
The music that they've committed to a couple of two-song 7-inches, and the unreleased songs that appear here, is full of the feeling that one gets when you're able to get up late - deep into the morning or even early afternoon - and just throw a big fuck-all to the rest of the day. It's got the feeling of overdosing on sunlight and forgetting to eat much.
You cracked the first beer right when they got up - enthusiastically believing in the healing powers of the hair of the dog - and rode those bottles right on in through the afternoon hours. Everything is awash in that feeling that just sort of hums inside you, when you know it's not the evening, you know it's not the weekend or a holiday and you're buzzed when most people are just dreaming about getting to that point, many hours later.
Before you know it, everyone's picking fights and then picking the one that you want to love that night, knowing that it's all you'd ever want out of this particular day - that soft and warm feeling and some drama. They sing, "You know I'm not right," and we think, "Well, the none of us are, so who's got the bottle opener and get out of my sun. I'm working on my tan."