Listening to Best Coast is risky because the music will turn your brain to shit and then your shit-brains will clog your ears. While compared to 1960s girl-groups by indie and mainstream critics alike, Best Coast lacks every appealing aspect of those bands: sophisticated harmonies, innovative production, clever lyrics, attitude, soul. More toxic than hearing front-woman Bethany Cosentino rhyme “crazy,” “lazy,” and “hazy” over and over again, though, is how often she says “like” in interviews. She, like, makes Sarah Palin, like, seem like a fucking, like, Rhodes Scholar. When not busy penning songs fit for a 7-year-old, she Tweets about ripping bong hits and how super-cute her cat is: Snacks, which also haz Twitter profile. Before imagining Beth and Snacks sporting matching My Little Pony pajamas, taking tubers, and tweeting about their adorable boyfriends (OMFG!), diaper your brain because it’ll soon be reduced to liquid shit.
Tues., Feb. 1, 7:30pm. $17. With Wavves + No Joy. Starlight Ballroom, 460 N. Ninth St. 267.765.5210. r5productions.com
The Pack A.D. are built for the road