Six St. Louis Bands Named After Animals

Jan 27, 2014 at 9:04 am
The New Guinea singing dog ain't got nuthin' on St. Louis bands. - cuatrok77 | Flickr
cuatrok77 | Flickr
The New Guinea singing dog ain't got nuthin' on St. Louis bands.

St. Louis music really makes us roar. With their catchy lyrics, fierce hooks and fills, and boundary-pushing experiments, local acts definitely know how to claw at our hearts. It makes sense, then, that so many area bands and solo artists are showing their wild sides with beastly monikers. Below, check out six St. Louis acts that use a variety of critters as their spirit animal muses.


To listen to Bluefish's music, you probably wouldn't guess that its band members are still in college. The warm indie-rock foursome displays such confidence and composition acumen that it's easy to peg it as an industry veteran. Bluefish has the weight of Coldplay, the yearning of Death Cab for Cutie and the catchiness of Kings of Leon, and for a young band to draw such comparisons after just three years on the scene likely means good things for the future. Forget fish; Bluefish is delectable caviar.


How in the hell should we classify Lions Eat Grass? The closest we've come is "offbeat noise-polka-jazz-punk stuff," but like with all good things, your mileage may vary. However you label the group, there's no question that Lions Eat Grass has mastered its domain of quirk. Scattered drum snaps and demented-circus accordion are punctuated by surprise bursts of yelling and headspinning lyrics, and the result leaves us feeling a bit unhinged, a bit creative and a bit famished for gazelle meat.


Have you ever heard a band that makes you want to somehow relax under the summer sun but also twirl nonstop at the same exact time? For us, Fire Dog barks up that tree. With its sunny grooves and and trippy reverbs, the longtime trio is a modern version of '60s jam bands, but with shorter songs. This ain't your mama's Grateful Dead outfit, though; while it's got a few far-out psychedelic elements, Fire Dog also channels some Better Than Ezra and other post-'90s influences to brighten up the jams. Fire Dog definitely has bite, but the group gives you the happies instead of the rabies.

Continue for three more local acts that make us howl with pleasure.