Out of the Great Swamps and Passaic River floods emerge The MiCKS, with a visceral sound and radiant plumage like the cock before the dawning sun. Something remarkable happens on stage between the brothers and their bewhiskered concomitant--beyond drums, guitars--- beyond themselves. They play and sing with the thoughtless abandon of their pure human nature, of children ripping air-guitar into their bellies and somersaulting over the backs of couches...and when the last note falls, they disappear in a burst of white light, leaving pupils ballooned like egg yolks and radioactive elements in the drinking water. This is how they taught themselves to play, the way they made sense of their instruments, before aspirations or warning, in a damp, dark primordial basement. With songs that awaken the weary and compel the wild at heart, The MiCKS are carving an unflinching foothold out beyond the abounding vagueness of modern rock 'n' roll. is a band from Jersey City.