Wieuca

Location:Tasting Room
When:
Saturday, December 2 from 7:00pm to 9:00pm
Brewery Hours:12-10pm
Music Style:Psychedelic Pop
Food Trucks:Appalachian Chic and El Querubin

Click here to check out Wieuca's website.

Wieuca formed in 2012 when multi-instrumentalist Rob Smith and visual artist Will Ingram decided to move from Atlanta to Athens, GA where they attended the University of Georgia. There, the group’s lineup finally stabilized a year later with the additions of guitarist Jack O’Reilly and producer, bassist and banjoist Sam Kempe. With Smith on drums and synth, and Ingram on guitar and lead vocals, the foursome set out to self-record its first offering, 2013’s woozy alt-country mixtape There Is No Balance. This release caught the attention of local press and provided a rough sketch for a model that the band would refine with each release: experimental recording techniques, obscure soundbite collaging and the channeling of Jawbreaker’s sharp, bleak, open-diary nature; the blurry, fuzzed out psychedelia of Brian Jonestown Massacre; and Uncle Tupelo’s earnest twang, still reeking of sweat from the second shift grind.

Wieuca’s initial release also secured them a few festival slots, sharing the stage with acts ranging from Elf Power and Kishi Bashi to Reel Big Fish and Chamillionaire, even Dem Franchise Boyz. The group followed up in 2014 with its self-titled EP, then collaborating on recording projects with Athens country titan Zach Wright and Atlanta-based hip-hop artist Mad Ace. The broad gauntlet of co-performers speaks to Wieuca’s seamless fusion of styles, a philosophy expanded in this year’s Guilt Complex which stretches to incorporate garage punk, shoegaze and trip hop as well. Like the rest of the band’s discography, debut album Guilt Complex was recorded by Kempe in his home studio and produced by the band alone (DIY isn’t all Crass patches and safety pins). Each song’s lyrics center on themes of longevity, death, eternity, aging and related ill-advised subjects for twentysomethings to preach about, but discussed through the more concrete lenses of poverty, violent crime, and passing out on couches. Guilt Complex is thick with snarky cynicism, with equal references to house parties and serial killers, cultivating the sort of pissed off ecstasy which is life in the free market.

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