Something Like A Monument Bio:
Imagine for a moment, with the considerably less logical hemisphere of your brain, Blues personified as man—derelict, aging and bloated, howling his newest ode for his latest, estranged lover on a street corner soapbox where no one is listening. He would be unbearable! Blues atop his podium, every passerby stampeding like cattle past him to escape his depressing white noise. Hungry for acceptance, Blues would plot to kill and assume the identity of Prog.
Prog, a man wrought with youthful vitality, would be held in high esteem for being a pioneer, an eclectic, a dabbler in the weird, and an all-around good-timer. But his naivety, this is what Blues would prey upon. One night in an alley outside a gutter bar, slitting Prog’s throat and separating the skin from his face so that he could wear it as his own. His plan complete, Blues would harbor the burden of his newly acquired persona hoping to be embraced as Prog was, carrying with him the only remnants of his former self: the women on his mind and the whiskey on his breath.
To describe the music of Something Like A Monument would be to say just that: blues bursting through its veil to become prog but never entirely forgetting where it began. Driven by heavy grooves splashed intermittently with odd time signatures, guitar and bass lines that venture into the realm of dissonance but always returning for the resolve, and vocals akin to caramel burnt to the bottom of an unwashed frying pan, Something Like A Monument is a wildly explorative collaboration that begs its listeners to answer only one question: How well can you shake your ass?