Eureka California began as Jake Ward’s bedroom project in Raleigh, NC, in 2007. On a whim he moved to Athens, GA, soon after and the band expanded to a five-piece. The lineup changed over the years as Ward’s songwriting began to find its footing — graduating college during an economic recession, the anxiety of time passing without realizing you’ve made any progress, on to sobriety in a drinking town and its accompanying isolation, and maybe that’s not the only reason you feel isolated, and now on to frustration at the music industry and looming threats of nuclear war. The band slimmed down to a two-piece with drummer Marie A. Uhler in 2012. Over a decade in and four LPs, a lost CD, and several 7″s and cassettes later, anxieties over the years flying by while workdays last forever are still at the forefront of the mind of Eureka California — wanting to make moves but being too broke to go anywhere, the low-wage jobs that take up all your time and keep you too exhausted to enjoy your days off, those people that waste the time you do have, or is it your fault for procrastinating? Maybe that’s why their songs are so short; most hover around the two-minute mark, and everything live is played almost twice as fast.
Eureka California’s fourth LP was released May 4, 2018, on HHBTM Records.
Eureka California really likes going on tour, swimming, arcades, Chompsky the cat, and the best dogs ever, Banana and Tater-Bug.
Moon Racer takes her name from the winged lion who rules over an island haven for misfit toys in the 1964 stop-animation film, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. With the same loyal commitment to the weird and sentimental, Autumn E. creates fuzzy keyboard pop songs in her bedroom in Durham, North Carolina, leaning heavily on vintage Casios and Tascam 4-track cassette recorder.
Is it Really a Secret? is a hazy, lo-fi spell of distorted beats, warm synths & melodically melancholic vocals. It is a diary, written from one January to the following October, narrating the frenzy of new love, its confusing dissolution, and finally, tender consignment to the past.