Scam Avenue are the real deal. The Brooklyn synth-pop band were formed after singer Devery Doleman replied to a Craigslist ad from producer and multi-instrumentalist Lawrence Kim back in 2014.
Devery was captured by the enigmatic and ambitious quality of Lawrence’s songwriting style, and the collaboration quickly grew legs. Soon, they recruited bassist Julie Rozansky and Nate Smith of Shy Child and Touchdown on drums, with Lawrence handling most other duties and Devery remaining n vocals.
Scam Avenue have a very amusing name for a band whose love for what they are doing is so evident and earnestly pursued. The name is apparently taken from a blog that used to detail the constant fallout from small-time grifts and below-board activities of a shady business owner in their neighborhood, which sounds charming, but could escalate to Tarantino-esque levels of absurdity—resulting in one infamous instant where said business owner chased his neighbor down the street with a chainsaw. Still, the name fits the band, as a representation of the dangers as well as opportunities that permeate the cityscape that inspires them.
Scam Avenue has a highly nostalgic sound that doesn’t call back to any particular period or history but instead references the passing of time and the way that present experience is ever receding into the past, causing us to have to remake our own history every time we recall a memory.
Their wavy and slightly warped style of dream-infused pop is as hazy, soft, and reassuring as streetlights illuminating your path on a midnight stroll, and as warm, wet, and intimate as the beads of sweat that form on your chest as you lie in repose in the swelter of a summer night. Each track on their debut and self-titled LP feels like an oasis of light that evokes a tide of anamnesis, recasting your sense of self and allowing you to be made anew, in a form both familiar and unblemished, like the process of burning a photograph in reverse.
You can buy and stream Scam Avenue’s self-titled below: