Two narrow bridges are the only land-based way off Cape Cod. They are either an agency of escape or symbolic prison bars, depending on your disposition. In summer the place teams with tourists; a four hundred square mile inducement to claustrophobia. Then the whole thing gets shuttered and you can see it for what it really is, a salty wasteland of scraggly, deformed scrub pines, aberrations of creation. If this place is a landed embodiment of bi-polar disorder, who are the kids that grow up there to fight it? For them, it's simple: create, go off the rails, or both. The musical undercurrent there runs deep. It usually begins and ends in dank basements scrawled with chalk art and littered with deteriorating gear: a delay pedal found roadside, a multi-speaker cabinet with one (sometimes) functional horn, a vibraphone abandoned by a family friend, and cymbals drilled through to stave off further punishment-induced fractures. One such basement belonged to JUSTIN AND MICAH BLOWERS, fraternal combatants until they bonded over music, who pushed this gear to mind-bending limits with a cadre or collaborators. At the turn of the 21st century, what was an occasional local scene became a movement, as seminal bands such as Cheese Wheel and The Fleece spawned, inspired, and cross-pollinated a raft of related bands that played to progressively larger audiences in juice bars, barns, gazebos, libraries, and vacant storefronts, playing everything from video-game jams to absurdist pop to apoplectic space rock. As principal members of The Great Northern and A Scanner Darkly, Justin and Micah, respectively, along with their collaborators, were within the heart of this moment. Brothers, as a band, did not exist during those rare days, as the siblings were occupied with their separate projects. Their SELF-TITLED CD represents the music they wrote together in that basement, or borrowed from their bands, before, during, and after that musical explosion a decade ago. The album is by no means an artifact. It is alive, and while it cannot represent what that movement was about, because no single album can tell that story, it does say a lot about the insane possibilities of kids making music with damaged gear in musty basements on briny peninsulas with no one telling them what not to do.