Lewis Pesacov has never been one to pigeonhole himself: he's produced tracks for Best Coast, thrown a 16-bar rap on a Local Natives remix, and played lead guitar in Fool's Gold, a band that combines his love of African music and '80s pop music. So it's no surprise that his latest offering, El Sportivo and the Blooz, comes with a whimsical backstory. It starts like this: Pesacov began receiving mysterious phone calls from a man he came to know as "El Sportivo." This communication eventually lead to a train ride that involved home-brewed wine and meeting "El Sportivo" and a band of musicians known as "The Blooz"—and left Pesacov with a hangover, a missing guitar, and a reel of tape containing music he created with the band (which includes, by the way, Matt Popieluch of Foreign Born). Allegedly, subsequent clandestine jam sessions with "The Blooz" eventually became the offerings for their self-titled EP. With music that is no less moody than their origin story suggests, the group combines slide guitar, crooning, and lyrics about love that for one reason or another just doesn't quite work out. The four-song EP encompasses a west-coast bliss wrapped in seasonal depression.
We're excited to clear up some of the mystery with an exclusive premiere of their first video, for the song "Clover." The video begins with a train ride that we imagine is not unlike the one that inspired the band's creation. The group is shot in a run-down room, and while you can (sort of) see the band in the video, don't hold out hope that their appearance will solve the conundrum of their origin. The entire video is shot with the band facing away from the viewers, and even glimpses in the mirror cheekily show just the backs of the musicians' heads. Drifting in and out of focus, we see a man staring in a mirror after giving himself a haircut, without any clues to who the man is. As the song comes to a close, the band leaves without ever glancing at the viewer. The song and video will leave you longing to know who the "The Blooz" actually are—a longing, judging by the music, that we're sure they are accustomed to.